


Grow

by aliceslantern



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Conditions, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strap-Ons, Trans Character, lasting bodily harm, yes this was an excuse to write more porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26323657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceslantern/pseuds/aliceslantern
Summary: Suddenly human and abandoned in the Keyblade Graveyard, Demyx struggles to survive and come to terms with what his life is. Only by chance is he saved from exposure, and brought to Radiant Garden to recover. Unsure of who he is and where to even begin, Demyx finds a kindred spirit in Ienzo, and before long finds perhaps he isn't the only one lost in this new life. But how can they move forward with so much holding them back?Roughly canonverse, Zemyx, hurt/comfort. Started for Zemyx day (9/6). Updates Wednesdays until it's done.
Relationships: Demyx & Even (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx & Lea (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx/Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

It was hot.

The Keyblade Graveyard wasn’t a fun place to hang out in the best of circumstances. All the keyblades--broken, stabbed into the crusty hard sand--were eerie, and every time Demyx saw them he couldn’t help but think of the people behind them, and how they were very definitely dead. It did not do wonders for his mood.

On principle, he tried to avoid going there. It was one thing to run errands for Zex-- _ Ienzo. _ Another to go there for old man Xehanort’s meetings. A third to go there of his own volition.

So why was Demyx finding himself going there as though compelled, though called on his duly-awarded gummiphone? He felt a draw, a pull. Did the old man  _ need _ him? Was he being--ugh-- _ unbenched? _ Who’d gotten themselves killed?

But when he got there… it was all eerily quiet, the only noise being the desert wind stirring the hot, dry air. Demyx walked for a while, feeling weird, feeling  _ heavy _ , his chest aching like he had heartburn. He saw pits and craters in the ground which, upon closer inspection, were  _ fresh. _ He saw footsteps in the dirt and, here and there, faint splatters of blood? He shook his head. 

“‘Lo?” he called. “Xehanort? Xemnas? Uh… anyone?”

He heard his own voice echoing. 

“Did you need something?”

More silence. 

“...Did you call me?”

Nothing. Demyx sighed heavily. “Well then I’m gonna go,” he continued. 

“Ah, not so fast, kiddo,” he heard in the distance, and he relaxed a little. Xigbar came into the clearing.

“Oh hey Xig,” Demyx said. “What’s up?”

“What’s up  _ indeed _ .” He chuckled. “Did you take a look at all this?” He gestured to all the destruction. “Did you hear? The old man is dead.”

Demyx’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, shit. Wait, so--who’s left?”

He smirked. “Just you and me.”

Demyx blinked. Thought of Vexen, Saïx. The former had texted him earlier, so he was still kicking. But Saïx… They’d had bad blood, but he still felt a little ping at his fellow traitor’s loss. “Oh, shit,” he repeated. “What now?”

“You tell me. It seems like someone’s been a naughty little boy.”

Demyx felt a punch--caught. But he kept his expression neutral. “What, for slacking off? Would help if you gave me something to  _ do. _ ”

“Cut the crap.” His expression darkened, and Demyx felt a shiver of fear. “I know  _ exactly _ what you’ve all been up to. How do you think this happened?” He spread his hands, then shook his head. “Never expected  _ you _ to be a traitor.”

Demyx didn’t know what to say. His heart was giving these heavy, weird beats. “You guys wanted the end of the world,” he said. “And, I dunno, I’m one of the idiots that lives in it?”

He put a hand on his hip. “I could care less what you did to Xehanort’s plans.”

Demyx frowned. “Then why did you call me here?”

“I didn’t.”

He blinked. 

Xigbar took a few steps closer to him. “See, kiddo, the worlds have different passages of time. And you’ve got the equivalent of a time bomb in your chest. According to your body, the old man must’ve  _ just _ bit it.”

The pain in his chest was worsening. “What do you--”

“That bit of heart is going to want out.”

“Okay, cool,” Demyx said. “I’ll just be me again. Sounds good.” His voice trembled, and he swallowed. “But doesn’t that mean I’d… lose the dark corridors? So shouldn’t I--”

“Go while the getting is still good?” Xigbar’s expression remained the same, but a faint aura of danger crept into it. “You could try. But there must’ve been a reason you were drawn here. Keyblade legacy, and all that.” He gestured around vaguely. He grasped one of the broken keyblades and pulled it out of the ground. “Wonder if one of these is yours. Here, try it out.” He tossed it down at Demyx’s feet.

He frowned. He was feeling nauseous now, and a righteous headache was beginning to bud, not-quite-memories rising behind his eyes. “So you want my keyblade? Look, I don’t want it, so take it. I don’t care.”

“No, thanks. Already got one of my own.”

The surprise barely broke the haze of his pain, steadily rising.  _ He’s stalling me, _ Demyx realized. He pulled within him to get a corridor--probably his last--but it resisted. Before he could get an active one going, he felt a hush of air, and then he was being pinned to the ground, his arms bent behind his back, the brunt of Xigbar’s weight making it hard to breathe. “Why are you doing this?” he forced out wheezily. “Just let me go. I don’t want to get involved with whatever bullshit--” Xigbar leaned on him harder, and he cried out in pain. 

“I’d love to do that, but there was probably a reason he wanted you. A reason that could throw yet another wrench into the plans. Sorry, kiddo. It’s been real. But I can’t have you doing anything  _ else _ stupid.”

“ _ Please _ ,” he wheezed. “Let me go, I’ll disappear, I’ll never bother anyone again--” The pain in his chest was so intense now blackness swarmed his vision. 

“Oh, that I know.” He felt Xigbar patting him down, pulling out the phone--his lifeline--and placing it next to him. Demyx just barely saw the flash of a blade-- _ a keyblade? He wasn’t lying? _ \--as it smashed through the screen. “Nighty-night.”

Darkness.

* * *

The ground was cool and dry under Demyx’s face.

So slowly, he stirred. All of him was achy, but especially his chest, like someone had crushed his ribs (and he’d know--been there, done that. Thanks Sora.). He gasped one breath, tasting dust. He was dizzy and he thought he might get sick. It took a good minute of trying to get his bearings, of feeling if he had injuries, before it started to come back. 

The pull to the graveyard. Xigbar. Xehanort’s heart leaving him. No more dark powers. His phone, smashed to bits.

Demyx sat up slowly.

It was night in the graveyard now, and thankfully cool. He could barely see by the light of the stars. He felt around in the dirt and found the fragments of the phone, which was nearly in two, a massive hole punched out its screen. Dead. No way to call for help, or for that matter, a ride.

Panic, thicker and stickier than he remembered, washed over him. He pulled for a dark corridor, and the pain that shot through him was so intense he was actually sick. “Fuck,” he spat. “Fuck!”

Alright. No need to panic. No need to panic. He was just stuck here, alone, in a desert, with no way out, no food, and if he had no powers, no water. The sensation of hopelessness (so intense?) rose and rose until he was gasping for breath, and he realized the intensity of these emotions came from his new humanity.

Human. But in this case, human was not what he wanted to be.

It took Demyx a long while to calm down. He rocked back and forth, feeling sorry for himself, until finally he could breathe somewhat normally. His mouth was so dry; part of his power usually kept him from needing to drink water. This new thirst was only another real sign of how fucked he was.

He held out his hand and called for Arpeggio. It came instantly, and he couldn’t help but hug it tightly. At least there was this. He tried to call for his other powers, but nothing came; he tried regular magic, too, but that, too, gave him trouble. 

Correction: no food, no water, no way out, but a sitar.

Demyx checked the contents of his pockets. A protein bar, two potions, an ether, and a utility knife. Not super promising.  _ Well, _ he thought,  _ at least I can off myself if it gets too bad. _

Not how he thought he’d be spending his first moments of humanity in years. 

The potions and ether would have to suffice as water. He’d have to see if he could find a source--anywhere here. But then what? Even if he got water, he’d need food. He’d seen no animals, no plant life anywhere.

He looked at the blade, shiny in the starlight. It’d be quick. Better than suffering to death.

_ That’s probably what Xigbar wants, _ he thought. He should at the very least  _ try _ to survive.

But for what, and why? He had no friends, no family that he could remember, barely any memories. He thought of Vexen, of Ienzo. Of how it had felt to help the “good guys.” Demyx wondered if this were some form of karmic payback for all the bullshit he’d done as a Nobody. He felt his eyes watering and forced himself not to cry, to save that water.

If Demyx was good at anything, it was surviving.

* * *

While it was still dark, he kept moving.

The Organization--the first one, anyway--had trained them for wilderness survival. Ironically, Xigbar had been one of his partners. He’d been the one who recruited Demyx. He was taught how to read the stars for directions, how to find water, how to build traps if he needed to catch something to eat, how to build a fire. All of this in the rare occasion that his dark powers became incapacitated. In other words, a situation a lot like this. It was hard to see in the semidarkness, but he knew that if he tried moving in daylight, he’d just dehydrate himself faster, and possibly end up with heat exhaustion or heatstroke. Nobody bodies were more forgiving, able to recover more easily from such things. Demyx’s body was no longer like that.

It was all so… eerie. Aside from the soft gusts of wind, there was almost no sound, and he took to singing to himself just to break the silence. No Heartless so far either, for which he was grateful. He walked through the labyrinth and found more signs of battle, but no water. He took tiny sips of one of his potions. Demyx was no longer used to thirst, its ache, the small tab in his brain whining for more. But he restrained himself. It didn’t help that potions were slimy, oily. At least the slickness in his mouth was better than the dryness.

As it began getting light, he was able to find a place in the canyons to take shelter. He was exhausted, and the muscles in his chest were still sore. He thought he’d have trouble falling asleep, but he went under almost immediately.

He dreamt. 

The memories were vague, almost cauterized, hazy at the edges--running across cobbles in a world he did not remember ever going to, other kids, a haze of Heartless battles, men and women in animal masks. When he woke, the dreams faded away, and he found himself struggling to recall what they were about. He was dizzy. He couldn’t tell if it was the early onset of dehydration, the heat, or partially due to his sort-of-reformation. Was he fully human? He hadn’t died, just lost the bit of a heart. But Xemnas had told them in the new Organization that they’d had a bit of a heart all along. Was his still growing? 

He was hungry, and he had to pee. He ate a few bites of his bar, though all it did was make him hungrier. And it was only when he was through peeing that he realized he probably should’ve saved it to drink, though the thought made him shudder.  _ I’d rather kill myself than do that.  _ Demyx knew it was a matter of when, not if, he’d have to do that if he didn't find a water source soon. “Fuck me,” he said aloud. 

Demyx kept wandering. The thirst was almost constant now, and he only allowed himself a few sips of potion every few hours. At least the night was cooler, though no less dry. He started getting a headache, growing slowly more painful as time passed, and only then did he let himself drink more than a few swallows. It helped, but not for long. He found it hard to focus, his eyes glazing over as he looked out over all the sand and rock.  _ Water, you idiot, find water. _ But consistently, he saw no signs of anything that would lead to an oasis of some sort--animal tracks, greenery.  _ Nothing. _ It was all just wasteland.

Maybe he should turn his attention to finding a better place to die. Then, in the next breath,  _ not yet. _

What had happened to this place?

There were craters everywhere, scorch marks, massive cracks in the ground like the earth had opened up. Keyblade everywhere, wavering in his tired vision. Partially out of boredom, he picked up one here and there. The headaches grew worse, and he thought he was  _ almost  _ remembering.

No time to worry about all this. Time to worry about staying alive. 

He was rapidly running out of fluids, and he was completely out of food. He was so hungry he was nauseous, and found himself getting tired more easily, having to sit and rest more often. He was already sweating less; it was too dry. The air must’ve been wicking the moisture out of him.

On the third day, he ran out of fluid entirely. He was starting to get faint, breathless more often, his joints aching. Dizzy, out of it. He elected to rest for a while and tried to play Arpeggio, his fingers hurting too much to play any more than some simple melodies. He cried a bit, though weirdly there were no tears.  _ I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. _ There was the thought of the knife. He almost brought it to his throat once, but couldn’t find the strength to slash.  _ I’m not ready yet. _

Time started to get weird, passing either too slowly or in big great gasps, and he would be walking in daylight instead of night. He started feeling a pain in his back, growing steadily worse, and he was shaky. It was getting harder to walk. Maybe his best bet would be to find a cool, quiet place to curl up and try to sleep ( _ forever _ , he thought, but pushed the notion away). Demyx made his way back slowly towards the labyrinth where the battle had happened; there had been some nice crevices there, and maybe if one of the guardians of light came back they’d find him.  _ Some hope. _ His body was starting to protest in earnest; his vision was swarming at the edges, and now and again he thought he saw things flickering and sparkling. He was hot, but he couldn’t sweat, and shivery. It was coming soon.

He was just barely able to get in the shade before his knees gave out. The pain was everywhere at that point, but particularly in his head and back, his heart beating harder now, more quivery. “It’s okay,” he said to it. “It’s okay. Just stop.” He took the knife out again, but his hands were shaking too hard to pull out the blade itself. “Okay. Okay.” He tried to make a pillow for himself out of his own arm.

_ I really am dying, _ he thought.  _ Weird. _ Was he still a Nobody? Was he going to disappear again? Was he going to wake up fully human? Had he been fully human these past few days? Was there a point to any of this?

Demyx wished he weren’t alone, that someone were sitting with him, he’d even take Xigbar. Maybe Axel, they’d got on well enough in the Organization. Or Ienzo, he seemed like he could use a friend. Demyx would take his sass any day…

He jerked a little, realizing he was drifting in and out of consciousness. It didn’t hurt so much anymore, and for that he was grateful. It was getting harder to tell what was real and what wasn’t. He thought he saw people in his vision, people in black coats. “Hey guys,” he said softly. “What’s up?” Heard the whisper of their distant voices as they talked, smudges of color. “Thought you were… dead.”

One of the voices grew louder, and he winced. He thought he could make out the words. “...Isa. Isa? I think I see something--”

“Really? Does it look like it could be him?”

“Black coat--but I dunno, maybe.”

The colors grew closer. Black, red, blue. Nice after all the brown of the sand. 

“It’s not moving. I think they’re dead.”

“The body would’ve faded.” Quiet footsteps. 

Then, “...oh no.” Quicker footsteps, and Demyx could see the red above him, smudges of green. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t get his mouth around the words. “Isa, quick, get over here.” A hand against his throat, feeling his pulse (since when could hallucinations touch?). “He’s… he’s alive.”

“ _ Who? _ ”

“Demyx--hey, buddy. Hey. Look at me.”

Finally, a syllable. “Ax…”

“Yeah. Hey.”

Demyx could see the blue, the paleness of their faces. He couldn’t focus his eyes, and it was getting harder to breathe. 

“Is he wounded?” Blue asked.

“I don’t think so… look at his  _ eyes _ , Isa, he must be human--”

“Stuck here--I’d have to guess dehydration.” Some vague rummaging, then a bottle was being brought to his lips. He could barely find the strength to swallow. “It won’t be enough. He needs serious medical help.”

“Can you hear me?” Red asked. “Can you talk? Blink?”

Demyx tried to blink. His eyes were full of sand; it burned. Things were starting to clip.

“...Pulse really elevated--”

“Calling the eggheads--”

“...get his legs. I’ll get the rest.”

For a moment, but just one, everything was completely clear.

“Stay with us, huh?” Axel said to him. “Just for a little while longer. I’m not done being annoyed by you.”

It all went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx begins to recover from his ordeal, and plan for whatever comes next.

Dark, for a long time, actually.

What he was aware of first was the pain. His muscles and back were screaming, forcing his eyes open. There was so much to take in he actively had trouble sorting all the stimuli.

Pain, a bed, cool air, a window with white curtains. Something pinching his hand, a plastic lead. A tube? 

Demyx thought he saw a person. His eyesight was weak, and he squinted. White coat, slate-gray hair. Was this all another hallucination? He tried to sit up, but it was so painful he just flopped back down weakly.

The person turned. “Oh, you’re awake,” he heard. They crossed over to him, and Demyx could see the vague outlines of Zexion’s face.

“Zex?” He cleared his throat. “Zexion? No…” He coughed a little. “Ienzo… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Are you real?”

“Yes, I’m very real. Much to my chagrin.”

“Am I dead?”

“No. Not quite.”

Demyx thought. His mind seemed slow to process information. But if he were dead, why would he be in so much pain? “H-hurts…”

“I’m sure it must. Do you want me to get you something for the pain?”

He looked at the ceiling, trying to decide. Did he want to try and clear his head? Or did he want the agony to stop? “Okay.”

Hazily, Demyx watched him get up, cross over to a cabinet, pull out a blob (a vial?) and what had to be a syringe. Demyx felt something stinging injected into his hand, and a few moments later the pain began to subside to a throb. His vision was still not quite clear. “Is that better?”

“T-thanks…” It was difficult to speak. “W-where--?”

“Radiant Garden. Isa and Lea brought you in here in a panic. They were looking for clues to help Sora in the Keyblade Graveyard. You were  _ horrifically _ dehydrated. Your kidneys failed, and Even suspects you may have had a seizure at some point--”

“...Yikes.”

Ienzo chuckled a little. ““Yikes” is right. You’ve been unconscious a few days--we were worried at first you might not wake at all. But then you started to rebound.”

“I’m… a-alive?”

“Yes.” 

For a moment, Demyx just looked up at the ceiling. “Now what,” he murmured.

He thought he saw Ienzo smile. “Recovery,” he said. “It’ll probably be a while before you feel fully back to yourself.” A sigh. “And there may yet be lingering effects.”

“Like… what?”

He shook his head. “Even would have to examine you to be sure.”

“Am I human?”

Ienzo knotted his hands together. “Yes. Perhaps not yet technically fully--the data is still inconclusive. It is only you and Even who are going through this. Right now, it is imperative you rest, receive enough fluids, and try not to get too anxious.”

“Even.” Demyx tasted the name. “You mean Vexen?”

“His Somebody, yes. Which reminds me. What is your name?”

He hesitated, and strained to think. But it was like hitting a mental brick wall. Demyx  _ couldn’t _ remember; he suspected he hadn’t been able to for a long time. “I… I don’t know.”

He thought he saw surprise on Ienzo’s face. Then, “perhaps… you’re simply disoriented, with all that your being has experienced. It may come back to you.” 

He was feeling tired again, now that the pain was subsiding. 

"...Why don't you get some rest," Ienzo suggested.

"Okay." 

Ienzo got up and headed towards the door.

"Zex?"

"...Yes?"

"Thanks."

A sigh. Demyx could not read his expression. "Sure, Demyx."

* * *

Demyx dipped in and out of sleep for a long time. When he woke up for real, he was less sore, but he was shaky and somewhat nauseous. His vision was still weird--did his Somebody just need glasses?-- and he squinted hard. He felt sticky and gross. Maybe they'd let him take a shower. How much time had he lost? He got up slowly. With the IV, it was hard to maneuver, but he was able to peek out the window, to the town of Radiant Garden below. He'd been changed into loose linen pajamas. His body felt odd; he flexed his hands. He had to have lost some weight.

"...Oh, good, you're able to get up."

Even's voice startled him; he gasped aloud and his heart gave a weird, quivery beat. "Frightened you, did I? My apologies. Here, sit." He gently eased Demyx back onto the bed and took his pulse with two cold fingers. "...That was all quite hard on you, wasn't it?"

"I don't feel well."

"Of course you don't. I'd be shocked if you did," Even said. He felt at the glands on Demyx's throat. "It's a miracle you were found. A few hours later and you would've been no more." He took a pen light out of his jacket and tracked Demyx's eyes for a moment. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. My eyesight's kinda funky."

"The soreness is part of the dehydration. It should pass in a few days. I'm more concerned about your kidney functioning. It's  _ improving, _ but it's not where it should be. Eyesight… well, that could possibly be again due to the kidneys, but you might've naturally needed glasses anyway. Strange problems the Nobody status hides. We'll keep an eye on it, pardon the pun. There's some medication I want you to take daily and you must  _ rest _ . I'm sure you need no excuse to be lazy." He scoffed a little. 

"Why did you save me?"

Even seemed genuinely confused by the question. "Was I to let you die, then?"

"I just…"

"You helped me," Even said. "But regardless I think that you being another living thing is reason enough."

Demyx felt his eyes watering. 

Even sighed. "At some point we must let past conflicts lie."

"You became human like me."

"Ah… yes."

"Did you forget things?"

Even cocked his head. "No," he said slowly. "What can't you remember?"

"A lot of things. ...My name."

Even stared deeply into his eyes, as though looking for something. "Of course brain damage is possible with dehydration but--"

" _ Whoa,  _ wait, what--"

"--but I don't think you've experienced anything  _ that _ extensive. Perhaps… it could be…" He put a hand to his chin. "...I so  _ wish _ I had access to a working MRI…"

Demyx swallowed.

"You're stable enough to be talking to me, at least," Even said quickly. "We will look into what we have." A pause. "Do you know how long you were there alone? What happened?"

Demyx explained about Xigbar. "He broke the phone so I couldn't call you guys. And then he knocked me out so I couldn't escape in time. I had no power-- I couldn't…" His eyes were watering again, and he felt it break free. 

"It is traumatizing," Even said, almost gently. The gentleness was so jarring Demyx started crying in earnest, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Surviving such a thing and dealing with this new humanity on your own."

"I'm pathetic."

A sigh. "No, you're not. How long were you there alone, Demyx?"

He tried to remember. "At least three days… after that it's hard to remember. I… I knew I was going to die…" the tears were hot on his face. "He left me there to die."

Even sighed. "Leaving it to the fates," he muttered. "Alas, you seem to be lucky."

"Ha. Hardly. It's total coincidence they found me."

Even hummed. "You're alive now, whatever that means to you."

"What do I  _ do _ ?"

"I'm afraid you must answer that question for yourself." He stood. "Do you feel up to trying to eat?"

"...I guess."

"I'll get you something light." He left.

Demyx considered the interaction, hiccuping. Even had never been so kind to him before. Was this because of the vessels? Or did humanity just make him  _ different _ ?

He looked at his hands blurrily. "Am  _ I _ different?" He asked out loud. He had a new lease on life, free of Xemnas and Xehanort and he was dubiously human. Everything he'd ever wanted. But it was a hollow victory.

He lay back down. Even brought him rice, and he was able to keep it down. The man didn't want to remove the IV line just yet, and Demyx was feeling vaguely tethered. He said he could shower, though, so gladly Demyx did, shedding days of desert. He almost started to panic when he saw clumps of hair gathered in the drain, but Even reassured him through the door it was a stress reaction and the hair would likely come back. 

He'd never been so painfully aware of his body, its aches and pains. Shouldn't have been proud of himself for being able to go to the bathroom, or found so much pleasure in brushing his teeth. Once he was clean and dressed (in clothes other than a cloak?) he returned to his bed, exhausted already. 

"Lea wants to see you," Even told him. Demyx thought he saw his jaw tense, a glint of fear in his eye--but why? "Would you even want that?"

He shrugged. "I owe the guy a thanks, at least."

Even sighed and put a hand to his brow. "Alright."

A few minutes later Lea bounded in, followed by Isa. They weren't wearing black cloaks after all, just black clothes. "Good to see you're okay," Lea said, grasping his hand. He almost looked like he would move in for a hug. "That was  _ scary. _ "

"Sorry for going all zombie on you," Demyx said. He found it hard to meet his eyes. "And… thanks for saving me." He bit his lip. "You didn't have to."

"As though we would leave you to die?" Isa said levelly. It was odd to see his teal eyes. "I think  _ I  _ owed  _ you _ ."

Demyx scoffed. "For carrying two empty dolls?"

"For taking the initiative. As it were."

Lea slung an arm around Isa. "It's because of you that Roxas is up and about. We gotta thank you for that."

Demyx shook his head. The praise didn't feel good. He just felt weepy again.

Lea sat next to him on the bed. "You alright?" He asked a bit more softly. "The eggheads treating you okay?"

"Everyone's been… really nice," he said. "I don't get it."

"Humanity has afforded clarity," Isa said in a low voice. "None of us treated you very well."

"Because I was a bastard."

Lea snorted. "I think we all were. 'Sides, you were only a pest at the absolute worst."

His lips twitched in a hesitant smile.

"It seems you have quite a story to tell," Isa said. 

The smile faltered.

"Only if you wish. I imagine it was very difficult."

Demyx took a deep breath. "I felt pulled there," he admitted. "The… graveyard? Then Xigbar showed up--"

Lea put up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait, he's  _ alive? _ "

Demyx frowned. "Yeah."

He groaned. "He must've faked us out."

Demyx touched his chest. "When Xehanort died both Even and me lost his heart. The same must've happened to him."

"It's still worth bringing up to Riku and the others," Isa said to Lea. 

"I don't know where he went," Demyx said honestly. "He knocked me out, broke my phone. So when I woke up I was human."

"And trapped." Isa shook his head. "A sadist way to go out."

"Yeah. I sort of… wandered, just trying to find water, and then you guys found me. But not before I got all sorts of fucked up."

"We weren't sure you would make it," Lea said. "You stopped breathing a couple times on the trip over."

"I did?"

Isa nodded. "Never have I missed the corridors more. But we're… human."

"I really owe you one," Demyx admitted to his lap.

"Think nothing of it."

"What will you do now?" Isa asked.

"I have no idea," Demyx admitted. "I… never thought I'd get this far."

Lea chuckled. "Well, it's nice here, and it's nice in Twilight Town. Feel it out. I think our landlord had an empty apartment in the building."

"You guys have an apartment? In a building? In a town?" He sighed. "Why does that feel weird?"

Isa smiled. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Am I going to have to get a job?" He asked, and groaned.

Lea laughed. "At least you can pick it this time."

"And not until you're well," Isa added. "Take your time recovering."

"...I'll try."

Lea patted his shoulder. "We gotta go. Just wanted to check in on you, is all."

"...Thanks."

"Ienzo has our numbers. Give me a call."

Demyx watched them leave. Their faces seemed pleasant until they were in the hallway, and he heard-- “... _ Xigbar. _ I knew it couldn’t be that easy.”

Demyx decided not to worry about it, because he was feeling tired again. He lay back down and went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly recovered, Demyx tries to figure out what he wants from this life.

Demyx was getting used to being prodded by Even. He checked on him at least once a day. The more time passed, the more often Demyx looked forward to it, because at least he was someone to talk to. As long as he was tethered, he couldn’t really go anywhere by himself. 

“Admittedly I know little about ophthalmology,” Even said, staring deep into his eyes with the same penlight. “These should help. I had Ansem print them for me.” He handed Demyx a pair of glasses. 

“...Ansem?”

“Oh--right. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” His lip curled. “The former king of Radiant Garden. This is his castle.” His tone was bitter. 

Demyx only knew a little about the story of the apprentices from his time in the Organization, and that he suspected was embellished. “So is he, like, your boss?”

“No,” Even said shortly. “He was our mentor--in the past, anyway. Now we work together.”

“With Kairi.”

“Yes. Try those, will you? I have to get back down there soon.”

Demyx put them on. After days of blurriness, to have clarity back was odd. “Whoa. HD.”

“I had to hazard a guess at the strength.”

“No, they’re fine.” He blinked.

“Well, that just means the poor vision has nothing to do with what you went through.” He shook his head. “One less thing to worry about.”

“You must be busy.”

“Idle hands make the devil’s work,” Even said absently. Then, “well… I suppose busy hands do too.”

“What do you guys do down there?” He swung his legs back and forth a little. 

“You know of the princesses of heart, yes? Kairi’s one of them. We’re hoping given her connection to Sora, and the special properties of a heart of light, we might be able to find answers as to where that boy  _ is. If _ he is.” A pause, then, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s not like you understand.”

Demyx shrugged, trying to hide how he was stung. 

“Regardless, it is a concrete goal to work towards… and for that I’m thankful.”

He turned away. With his newly sharpened vision, Demyx could see more acutely the lines around his eyes, the gray mixed into his blond hair. He looked exhausted. “Thanks, Ev,” he said. “Do you know how much longer I’m gonna need this?” Gesturing to the port in his hand.

“Even,” he corrected, then sighed. “I suppose you have a point… your last labs were the best yet. If you’re up and about you can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. Plus I’m kind of going insane sitting here for so long.” He offered a hesitant smile.

Even considered. He went over to the sink, washed his hands, put on gloves, and grabbed some gauze. “I’m afraid this may hurt,” he said. 

Demyx had thought it was just a needle, but it was more of a thin  _ tube _ inside of his vein due to how long they’d thought he’d have it. Removing it  _ did _ hurt a lot, and he swore out loud. But once it was gone… despite his throbbing hand… he felt so much lighter. “Can I walk around?” he asked. “Can I do stuff?”

“So long as you are  _ careful. _ ”

“Thank you!” He leapt to his feet and pulled Even into a hug; he jerked as though he’d been shocked. 

“Please do not touch me,” he hissed in a completely different tone. There was something dark and closed off in his eyes, more than his typical sharpness.

“I’m sorry--I’m just so glad.”

“Yes. Quite. Well.” He left without so much of a backwards glance.

Demyx bit his lip. He hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just a hug, right? He’d apologize again later when Even checked on him. 

It was time to get out of this room. Apparently this place served as a sort of infirmary for the castle, though nobody else had had to come down here. It had its own bathroom, so Demyx hadn’t even needed to cross its threshold. Leaving felt odd, but it wasn’t like he was in prison.

The hallways down here were dark, without windows, sconces providing the only light. The carpeting was thick, heavy, and needed a good clean; it squished uncomfortably under his slippers. He wandered for a while, mentally taking stock every now and again so he would be able to find his way back. The layout was weird, putting it lightly, and he could see places where the castle had been renovated, or added on-to, architecture and design clashing oddly. Apparently the apprentices had all lived here in the heyday--they must live here now. It wasn’t like Demyx was a stranger to living in castles, but this one felt so much more  _ real _ and  _ old _ than the one in the World that Never Was. He ran his fingers along the crown moulding, touched the lamps when he saw them. This place must’ve once been nice, but it was dirty, and in a state of relative disrepair. 

Would this be his home now?

The thought was jarring, and he stopped in his tracks. Pushed the glasses up his nose. The better he physically got, the more apparent it was that he had  _ nowhere  _ to go and  _ nobody. _ No friends, no family. Hadn’t Lea and Isa just extended that invitation to be nice? Did they really mean what they said?

A weepiness came over him, and he bit it back. He felt like he’d been buffering for so long, going here nor there in his life? What did he  _ want? _ Who was he really? The more he thought about it, the less Demyx felt like the self he’d been as little as two weeks ago. Was he changing? Becoming “different”?

All these thoughts were giving him anxiety.

He wandered for a little while longer, coming across a section that seemed a bit cleaner than the others. There was wood flooring here, not carpeting, and Demyx could see some old windows in the walls. A few swatches of paint were here and there. He saw a few doors here and there and tried one on impulse; it was open. He could just barely see bedroom furniture, a small rose bush in a pot by a window--

“What are you doing snooping around?”

The voice startled him; he yelped and clutched at his chest, the new glasses falling to the floor. Demyx scrambled to pick them up. Slowly, he turned and saw Dilan, Xaldin’s Somebody, in a blue uniform. Frowning. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know… I’m guessing this is your room, then?”

“...Quite,” he said gruffly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go barging into spaces you haven’t been invited to.”

“Of course. Yeah.”

There was a pause. His hair was neater than Xaldin’s, Demyx realized, and was his skin a bit darker.

“I didn’t know you guys lived here,” Demyx continued. “I was just… taking a look around.”

“You’re up on your feet, then?”

“Well. Obviously.” He cleared his throat a little. “I haven’t been able to leave that room for like a week.” A wry laugh. 

“Ienzo told me what happened.” Dilan shook his head. “What a cruel thing to do.”

Demyx shrugged. He and Xaldin hadn’t had the best rapport in the Organization days, and he didn’t know what to say. 

“You’re well, though?” he asked.

“...Getting there. I think.” He rubbed at his sore arm. 

“Do you… know what you’re to do next?”

“No,” he admitted slowly. “It’s been… hard.”

“Of that I am well aware.” He touched his chest. 

“So… I’m gonna go,” Demyx said. “I won’t, uh, mess with your stuff.”

“Much appreciated.”

Demyx set off in the opposite direction. He was getting hungry now, his appetite only growing in the passing days. Usually someone brought along a meal to him, so he headed back. He found a sandwich and an apple on a plate on his bedside, and once this lunch was done with, he just… sat. Waiting. After a few minutes of this, he decided to take out Arpeggio to try and get his mind off of things. His fingers were a bit shaky, but within about fifteen minutes he was able to play with the same fluidity as before. 

But it was… harder. Not physically. But as he picked through old compositions he felt the  _ emptiness _ composed by his Nobody self, the sadness, the loneliness. At the same time, they felt like they’d been created by a stranger, despite the fact that he  _ remembered _ writing them. A strange dissonance. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, a heart to truly  _ feel _ music with?

What did Demyx feel?

He tried to parse it out. Empty, again? Tired, sad? Overwhelmed? 

Having a heart was supposed to be easy. 

He let Arpeggio fade and curled up. A cool breeze came in through the cracked window. He stared out at the little bit of town he could see, feeling on the verge, the breath of remembering--

“I thought I heard you playing. How do you feel?”

Demyx’s head snapped up. He saw not Even, but Ienzo, in that white-coat getup. He was carrying a small bundle. “Um, alright,” he said, blinking yet more tears out of his eyes. “Where’s Even?”

“He and Ansem are trying to solve a problem with one of our simulations.” He cocked his head a little. “I do know enough about medicine.”

“I know, I just…” He swallowed, and considered telling Ienzo. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“I brought you some more clothes, too. And this.” He held up a gummiphone. “You might find a use for it--if you don’t break this one.”

Demyx took it from him. “Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have to--”

“The castle is large. It makes it easier to keep in touch if we all have one--heaven forbid something happen to you.” His tone was dismissive. 

Ienzo came over to him, went through the familiar motions of taking his vitals. He listened to Demyx’s heart. It was strange to be so close to him, and a little uncomfortable in a way Demyx couldn’t define. His eyes were a bit greener than Demyx remembered, and his eyebrows furrowed together just slightly. Demyx could hear him breathe. “Your heart rate’s a little high,” he said. “Are you nervous?”

He cleared his throat. “No. Ah. Just a little anxious, I guess.” He felt the blood rush to his face, trying to place that feeling. 

“Why?”

“I just don’t know what to do now,” Demyx admitted. 

Ienzo took the stethoscope out of his ears. “That is the question, isn’t it,” he said slowly. “After so long of having little to no choice, suddenly the world is open in front of us. Like having the rug yanked from under you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It really is. But don’t you… have your work, and stuff?”

Ienzo set the object aside. “I do,” he said. His eyes flicked up in thought. “But at the same time… I was with the Organization for considerably longer than you. Work… well, it’s something concrete to work towards.”

“Even said the same thing.”

His expression darkened a little. “We all seek to be better people. To… make up for the hell we’ve wrought. Working with the guardians of light… providing them with whatever they need to the best of our abilities... is the least we can do.”

Demyx picked at the lint on his pants. “I… thought about it, in the desert,” he admitted. In his newly-sharpened peripheral he saw Ienzo’s head snap up, his eyes widening. “If this wasn’t karma.”

Slowly, he nodded. 

“But… you know…” He forced a laugh. “I’m  _ here _ , right? If whatever forces exist in this world wanted me gone… I would be toast. Same for you. And Even and them. We literally came back from the dead.”

“A second chance,” Ienzo murmured. “Quite.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “But that doesn’t help tell me what to  _ do. _ Or how to feel about any of it.” The blood rushed to his face. “And I’m sure you’re too busy to listen to this.”

“No,” Ienzo said. He sat down next to Demyx on the bed. He was shorter than Demyx remembered. More weird reformation? “This is the first bearable conversation I’ve had in a while.”

He snorted. “Really?”

Ienzo sighed heavily. “A lot happened that I don’t particularly care to get into at the moment. But things between us are… a bit tense.”

“...Oh.” Ienzo’s smile was small and sad. Demyx couldn’t actually remember if he’d ever seen him do it, and before he could stop himself he said, “you have a nice smile. I’ve never seen it.”

The blood rushed to Ienzo’s face. 

“I’m sorry, was that weird to say?”

“No, ah.” He pulled at his collar a little. “No.” He knotted his hands in his lap. “I know in the past our rapport has been… rocky.”

Demyx bit his lip and thought back. For a long while, he and Zexion had both been part of the reconnaissance team, but whenever they’d been paired together, it hadn’t exactly ended well. Their personalities clashed like oil and water; Demyx’s carefree attitude and low ambition combined with Zexion’s perfectionism always ended in fights. “You could say that again.”

He chuckled a little; strangely, it had no sound. “Perhaps it would do to start over,” he said. He offered his hand. “I’m Ienzo.”

“Demyx. Nice to meet you.”

He pretended not to notice the tingle he felt when they shook.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx is offered a job, and gets more insight to Radiant Garden's past.

As the days became weeks, Demyx started to feel better. The soreness in his muscles faded and he wasn’t as tired all the time. He was able to explore the castle for longer and longer, though he still got exhausted easily. He got used to wearing glasses, though for those first few days every time he saw himself in the mirror he thought he was seeing a stranger, especially with his hair still loose. He doubted the others would consider hair gel to be necessary… and he didn’t miss the time spent finagling every little strand of hair. 

One thing that didn’t improve, though, were the nightmares. 

It seemed like every night around the same time he was forced awake. Some of these nightmares were about the time in the desert, brutal and hot and painful and helpless, but mostly they were about… other things. Being bludgeoned by Sora. More things, harder to remember, about being a kid with other kids, about Heartless, strange worlds he could’ve sworn he’d never been to. Fights, injuries, deaths. A lot of deaths. He’d wake up panicking or crying and would sometimes have to run for the bathroom to get sick. And then the thought of the nightmares would fade away, making him doubt he’d even dreamt in the first place.

There was one night when he was having another desert nightmare. These  _ did _ stick around, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he was glad for that. He’d wake up in that bed, in a room that was most definitely in a town, and once he stopped crying he got up to get a glass of water to remind himself he could. He sat back on his bed, but he was shaking too hard to go back to sleep. He got up, turned on his phone’s flashlight, and started walking. Maybe to orient himself, maybe just to  _ move, _ as though to get away from the bad memory. Demyx walked for what felt like a long time, a spare tear running down his face every now and again. Time had passed; why was he feeling like this?

A light in the semidarkness. “Don’t come any closer. I’m armed.” Ienzo’s voice, hoarse and unlike any time Demyx had ever heard Zexion speak. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s me!”

“...Demyx? What are you doing wandering around at night?”

“Yeah, well, same goes for you.” He took another few steps forward. He could barely see Ienzo’s silhouette. “I was… having trouble sleeping.” 

A pause. Then, “I was too. I miss those days, you know, when we didn’t have to sleep.” His voice was unsteady.

“Are you… okay?”

Another pause, longer. Then, “Demyx, does humanity feel odd to you?”

“Weird how?”

He lowered the light so it wasn’t right in Demyx’s eyes. Ienzo’s own were bloodshot. “Would you like some tea?”

“Uh… sure, I guess.”

He followed Ienzo down back towards the apprentices’ quarters, into the small old kitchen. They could just barely see the moon from the window. Ienzo put up a kettle on the gas stove and pulled out a box from a cabinet. “Chamomile might help. You, anyway.” For a moment they just waited for the water to boil in silence. Demyx took a moment to look at Ienzo. He wore a thin robe over linen pants and a plain T-shirt, and his hair was messy, and there were bruise-colored bags under his eyes. Ienzo noticed his appraisal. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he snapped.

“Sorry, sorry. Chill.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve just… never  _ not _ seen you in a uniform. Ever.”

His expression slackened, became almost  _ morose _ . He shut the whistling kettle and poured them both some water. “It is odd, isn’t it, what we get used to?” Ienzo sat across from him at the table. “Though this reminds me of my initial query. Is humanity strange to you?” He looked him in the eye, and Demyx realized from the glint in his that Ienzo  _ needed _ this answer. 

“Um…” He thought about it. “Yes and no. I mean, some things feel the same, but on the other hand, I… don’t feel like what I remember to be  _ me _ . Maybe if I had memories of the past, it would be different. When I played through some of my old stuff, it felt like someone  _ else _ wrote it. There’s a lot I’m trying to come to terms with. I don’t know if it’s good or not.” He debated telling Ienzo about the nightmares. 

He drummed his fingers on the table. “Quite,” he said slowly. 

“Does that help?”

Ienzo opened his mouth. Closed it. “I suppose it reassures me that I’m not losing my mind.”

“Do you feel like you are?”

“Oh, yes. Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “I was a Nobody for quite some time. To suddenly be back in  _ this _ body, with  _ this _ heart… as you said. Dissonance. For me, being a Nobody was  _ normal. _ I did not crave wholeness the way you all did.”

“Why not?”

His brows shot up, and for a moment Demyx almost thought he saw Ienzo’s eyes watering. “Why indeed,” he said. “Why… indeed.” He paused. “Feelings… especially the emotions now we’ve gone through all that… are messy, dark, and complicated. They take from my… ability to be of use. They weaken me. Were I to… lose this burden, but still be able to make up for what I did, I--”

“What did you do?”

Ienzo went, if possible, even paler. He’d never seen Zexion at a loss for words, never saw him  _ react _ to anything. Ienzo’s breathing had quickened, his eyes glazing over. “I must go,” he said. He stood up and put his mostly-full mug in the sink. 

“Wait--Zex--I--”

“My name is Ienzo.” Demyx guessed there was supposed to be venom behind the words, but he sounded on the verge of tears. “Ienzo,” he repeated. “I’m sorry--” 

He was already gone. 

Demyx cursed his own behavior. But how could he have known that was a sore subject? He’d made Ienzo cry--the fierce, impenetrable Zexion. Maybe, he realized slowly, Ienzo and Zexion were more separate entities than himself and his Nobody. One had feelings, the other had not. Could feelings really make so much difference?

He looked at his own trembling palm. Maybe so.

* * *

That next day, Demyx was again tired from his sleepless night, so he spent some time getting used to the gummiphone again. He hadn’t had much time with his old one to understand it other than “it can call people.” But it had a multitude of functions; he could send people notes, take pictures, play games, journal, and… share pictures with people?

The app called itself “Kingstagram.” Most of the users were people Demyx knew, or had heard of; Riku, Kairi, Roxas, Naminé. Lea and Isa. Ienzo. It was so interesting what they felt like they had to share. Pictures of themselves, of each other, places, food. He spent quite a lot of time just looking through these images until he seemed to hit the end. A post made by Ienzo.

_ A true scholar finds clues to the future in the mistakes of his past. #testpost. _

Ienzo had made this program himself. To connect people, to share with them. He tried to figure out how to comment like other people had, and was prompted to make an account, so he did. Demyx took a picture of himself. 

_ Rocking that #glasseslife now.  _ Simple enough.

Within about fifteen minutes there was a response from Lea.  _ Ha. Nerd. _ Demyx smiled a little. Maybe he did really want to be friends. Demyx decided to text him.

_ Hey. _

The response was almost instantaneous. Did Lea and them have jobs? Did they have things to do? Or were they like Demyx, also killing time?  _ Hey! How are you doing? _

_ A lot better, actually. Trying to get my shit together. _

A laughing face.  _ I know how that is. Nice glasses. It’s a good look for you. _

_ Har har. _ He bit his lip.  _ How did you do that? _

_ What? Oh, the emoji? There’s a button right above the keyboard. _

A pause. Demyx didn’t know what to say to him. Lea responded first.

_ How is it in good old RG? _

_ I haven’t actually been outside… I have no idea. _

_ What are you waiting for? _

_ That is a… good question. _

_ Walk around. Get some air. Talk to people. _

Demyx sighed.  _ You’re probably right. _ Then,  _ what do you do? In Twilight Town? _

_ I’m a bartender.  _ Martini emoji.  _ It’s a living. People are interesting, anyway.  _

_ Ha. I could use a drink. _

_ So go out and get one. _ Wink. 

_ Maybe I will. _

_ I hope you do. Catch up later, I have to go to work. _

Demyx sat staring at the exchange for a while. It was the closest thing he’d had to a normal person conversation in… how long exactly? 

Demyx wished he had friends. Real ones, not people who were taking care of him out of moral obligation, or who were just being  _ nice. _ He’d wanted to be human for so long, but that just meant putting in the work of… building a life.

For the first time since he’d been in Radiant Garden, Demyx left the castle.

It was a cool spring day that felt like rain. Once he walked through the construction sites, town was bright and vibrant and  _ alive _ . There were more people than he’d seen in some time, and they all looked… not  _ happy _ , but no longer so drawn and miserable as they once had before the war. There were children playing, shoppers milling around in the marketplace. And for once, he didn’t have to squirrel himself away and hide.

Demyx wandered for a time. He didn’t have much money--maybe enough for a few meals or a small trinket. He’d have to live somewhere someday, get a home or room, pay rent. Could he imagine himself living here? Breathing in the bright smells--cooking food, perfumed goods, oncoming rain--he thought he  _ could _ . 

But how did he just  _ make _ friends, without all the icky “oh, I was a bad guy” exposition that had to happen? A spike of anxiety made his heart race, and suddenly this place no longer was so pleasant.

“Ice cream, laddie?”

The voice startled him, and he felt another, harder flutter in his breast. “You talking to me?”

“No, the other fish out of water.” Looking up at him was a duck in a rich red robe. For a moment the sight of the white feathers made him shudder, recalling Sora’s  _ friend _ and his hand in that battle. This one was offering him an ice cream bar, still in the wrapper. 

Demyx took it. “Thank you,” he said. He reached into his pocket for money.

“Quite alright. These were surplus anyway. Go on, sit.” He gestured to one of the small tables by a shop door. 

Demyx looked up. The shopfront seemed to be an odd mismash of things--food, some scattered goods that boasted they were from Twilight Town or Traverse Town or any number of places, and a small depot labeled simply “post office.” “This your place?” Demyx asked him. 

“That it is.” He had an odd accent. “Business is booming. We’ll grow yet.”

Demyx looked at the teal bar and took a small bite. The salt-sweet combo was oddly familiar to him, like a half-forgotten dream. “You know,” he said softly. “I have friends who are  _ obsessed _ with this ice cream.”

“I should hope so! Took me  _ ages _ to recreate the flavor. The family that first made it… isn’t around anymore.” A sigh. “The scientists up at the castle, yes? They’re pretty much  _ solely _ keeping this aspect of business afloat.”

“The…” Demyx blinked. “No, these are… people from elsewhere.”

“...I’m wary of them too, to be honest,” the duck said. He shook his head. “Knowing what they did… well. Sends shivers through me feathers.”

Demyx wondered if this was what Ienzo had been referring to. “...What did they do?”

“I knew you weren’t from around here, laddie.” He smiled sadly and offered his other hand. “Scrooge McDuck.”

“...Demyx. And, uh, no. I’m not from around here.”

“It’s a dark story… not exactly one to be told by new friends over ice cream.” A wry chuckle. 

“...Oh. But, well… it’s said their experiments are part of what helped this world fall in the first place.”

“...With darkness?” Demyx knew this much from whispers in the Organization.

“On hearts. People. Children, too.”

Demyx swallowed, feeling his stomach clench. 

“But… so we’re told, by Leon and them anyway… they’ve turned a new leaf. Devoting themselves to good. And I… trust Leon.” Scrooge smiled. “What a conversation.”

“Ha. Yeah. Sorry.” Demyx tried to smile, too.  _ Experiments? On kids? But how-- _

No wonder thinking of it made Ienzo so upset. He had to be feeling guilty. Right?

Was it wrong for Demyx to  _ want _ him to feel guilty about that? What exactly had they done? Ienzo was roughly the same age as him, and this fall had supposedly happened about eleven years ago… meaning he’d have been a  _ child. _ Unless…

Was Ienzo one of the experiments? “Oof, yeah,” he said. “So why’d you stop me, then? Giving away ice cream isn’t exactly good for business.”

The smile became sheepish. “I admit I have something of an ulterior motive,” he said. “I’ve been looking for a young, strong boy like you. We’re growing too fast and there’s not enough help.”

Demyx almost snorted. “Like a job?”

“Sure. Someone new to town like yourself must need one.”

Demyx opened his mouth. Closed it. “What kind of job?”

“Someone to man the post office. Maybe do some delivery work.”

At this point he actually did laugh out loud, mostly at the irony. 

“Aye, you coulda just said no--”

“I’m not saying  _ no _ .” He took another bite. “I just, ah. Let’s say I’ve had some recent experience in that.”

“Even better! When can you start?”

He blinked. “You must be pretty desperate to be hiring me on the spot.”

His eye glinted. “We’re all for second chances here in Radiant Garden. So can you be here tomorrow by nine?”

He thought about it. But what else would he do at the castle other than sit around and agonize? “Sure,” he said. “Why not.”

Scrooge grasped his free hand. “Welcome aboard.”

* * *

A job. Well, at least it was something. 

He had to build this life somehow. But how? Demyx was still physically recovering, still lacking memories, lacking a whole lot  _ more. _

What did he  _ want _ ?

Being directionless had once suited him. After all, the Organization had taken care of most of his material needs. As long as he had Arpeggio, and  _ time _ , the world may as well have been his oyster.

Demyx sighed heavily. Maybe that was what he needed, a good long jam sesh. Anything to work through these tangles of thought. Reassure him he was good for  _ something _ .

He returned to the infirmary, his informal room, sat cross legged on the bed. Brought the sitar into his arms. It had to mean something that it was still here, right?  _ He _ had to mean something?

He started with some well-known and worn compositions, but almost on their own accord he found himself volleying through a rhythmic nightmare, a harsh minor key that wasn’t quite taking shape. He tried to understand the emotions in this song, thick and heavy and  _ old _ . A key to his past? Did he want to know who he once was? Did this have anything to do with the dreams? How could he possibly move forward if he didn’t even know who he was?

The song scattered into silence, and Demyx felt tears on his face, fogging his new glasses. He took them off and swiped at his eyes, seeing in his blurry peripheral  _ Ienzo _ , of all people. “What…” Demyx began, sniffling. “I thought you were mad…”

“...I heard you playing,” Ienzo said. “The tone… concerned me.”

“Why should you care?”

He touched his chest. “I fear I may feel… the same.”

“...Same…” 

Ienzo offered him a clean handkerchief. He gestured to the chair next to the bed. “May I?”

“Uh--sure.” Demyx patted at his face with the cloth. It smelled slightly sweet, like detergent, almost floral. Sandalwood? A product of Ienzo’s? (Why was he wondering? Why did he care?) 

He sat. He looked careworn, his hair a fuzzy mess, like it hadn’t been combed in a long time. Demyx found himself struck with the urge to brush it out of Ienzo’s eyes, what that skin might feel like against his palm. There was something different in his eyes, something less guarded. 

“Look, about the other day, I’m sorry,” Demyx said. 

“You did nothing wrong,” Ienzo said slowly. “I just… wasn’t aware how little you knew of the Organization’s founding.” His fingers, knotted in his lap, tapped together anxiously. 

Demyx cleared his throat. “I was in town today, and I met that guy, Scrooge McDuck? He said something about experiments.”

Ienzo nodded sadly.

“And… Vexen alluded to them before. Horrible things… you did in the name of… progress, or whatever.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “Yes. We were… scholars of the heart, for the longest time. Learning about it, what affected it, human nature. But to understand a heart… you need people. Subjects. Tests. From there… it is very easy to… lose track of the impact. Easy to slip into darkness. And Xehanort… goaded us, pushed us.” His head snapped up. “Make no mistake, the experiments I did, I did of my own volition.”

“How old were you?”

Ienzo blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“We’re about the same age, right? And that was… eleven-ish years ago? Meaning you’d be…” He bit his lip. “A kid?”

He ran his hand through his hair. His mood had changed immediately, and the air felt like it had cracked. “And?”

“I dunno, after listening to all of Xemnas’s lectures… stuff about when the heart is most vulnerable, and shit, aren’t kids like… really easy to manipulate?”

Ienzo took a quick breath. 

“And you were like, a genius kid too, right? So you thought you were above it all. I’m sure all he had to do was tell you you’re  _ very _ smart and special to make you… ah… want approval. Cause you always did as Zexion. Just saying. It was all, “please the Superior” "reach our goals " that.” He waved his hand around a little. “I dunno, it might not be all your fault? Just saying.”

“But I…” Ienzo took a sharp breath. “I still… I still hurt and killed people, I--wanted to see what I could do. How far we could push it. We were learning about… the building blocks of the universe, and people… so many people suffered and died… I remember.” He shuddered. “If I hadn’t persuaded Master Ansem to build that lab--”

Demyx’s heart was beating hard and fast. He’d never seen Zexion like this--there was something raw and wild in it, something he’d just been feeling a few minutes ago. “Did you build that lab because you wanted to hurt people?” He wasn’t sure if this was helping or not. 

Ienzo shook his head. He was blinking quickly. “Come to think of it…” His voice was tremulous. “I’m not sure it was… actually my idea? Oh god, Demyx.” He locked eyes with him. “I never… I don’t think…  _ it wasn’t my idea. _ ” Demyx heard him panting. “I didn’t even realize…” A wry, panicked laugh. “Xehanort said that… considering I was his son… I had the best chance convincing him. So I did.” He pulled his hands through his hair. “So much of what I thought was true was a lie all along…” More harsh, odd laughter. Then so slowly... he started to cry. “Oh god.”

Demyx knew that feeling of unraveling somehow, of feeling everything you’ve ever known come apart. (You were growing a heart all along.  _ Keyblade legacy sleeps within you. _ ) Perhaps, even, buried in memories of before. Without hesitating, he reached over and drew Ienzo into a hug. 

It felt strange to have another body close to his after so long without contact. Almost foreign. Ienzo jerked a little, and Demyx almost let go, but after a moment he sagged into his embrace.

“But I still…” Ienzo forced out between breaths. “I still… did those things, I still hurt people, but if he… if he’d never… I wouldn’t have…” Taking gulps of air like it hurt. 

Demyx shushed him. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.”

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known better.” Demyx wondered if he were telling himself this too. A young amnesiac waking up in the middle of nowhere, only for Xigbar to find him, with a smirk, collect him and tell him he could help. Could give answers to the emptiness, the lack of memories. Being brought into a strange world of darkness and nothing… never knowing humanity or a real, normal life. He would’ve, though, if he’d been left to his own devices. They both would’ve.

Ienzo pulled away slightly. “Everyone told me I was doing the right thing,” he said softly. “And after all that… I believed it. I believed this was all for the greater good. And it never was.” He pressed a hand to his mouth. "If I could believe for years that Ansem had gone mad and it wasn't true, of course there could be more I was wrong about."

“No.” Demyx felt something tighten in him. He wanted to help. Somehow. Someway. Someone. Even if that someone was just this old coworker in his arms. “But you can do the right thing now.”

“I can now,” he repeated. Shook his head. “Demyx, you have no idea what this means to me.” 

“It’s just the truth.”

“The truth,” Ienzo mouthed. There was an odd pause. Demyx realized once again how  _ close _ they were together, the way he smelled, clean, almost like sandalwood and old-fashioned ink (a whisper of a not quite realized memory). He noticed for the first time the curve of his lips, how  _ soft _ they looked, and he wondered what it might feel like to--

Ienzo leaned up and kissed him.

It was an abrupt, startled gesture. Demyx gasped a little in surprise. 

Ienzo pulled away; he seemed shocked, too. “I--forgive me. I’m not sure why I--I felt so many things, and…”

“You kissed me.”

“I guess I did.”

An awkward pause. Demyx touched his lip, feeling the ghost of pressure. 

“I shouldn’t have--I should-- _ god _ .” He hissed in frustration, pulling a hand through his hair. “I can’t do anything right--” He got up and tried to turn away.

Demyx grasped Ienzo’s hand. “No.”

“...What?”

He touched Ienzo's face; he didn't move or resist, his eyes glinting as though curious to see what he would do next. Demyx kissed him. 

The response was strange and immediate, like no kiss he’d had as a Nobody. Something fluttered in him, tight and wanting and wholly new. Demyx was in shock. He didn’t know what the hell was happening. He brought his hands up through Ienzo’s hair, kissing him all the while, bright and electric. And  _ Ienzo was kissing him back _ . 

It was quick. It was confused. He was pretty sure neither of them wanted it to stop. 

_ Help me. Oh god. _ He felt Ienzo’s tongue along his lips and let it inside, a feeling like velvet, like falling, and he grasped at him through that white coat. Demyx felt that kiss in his whole body, a heavy unrestrained  _ wanting wanting _ that had maybe been dulled by being a Nobody, who could be sure, or maybe it was because he had never been kissed like this--

He felt himself being pressed against the bed, the softness of Ienzo’s hair against his throat as he kissed it, this new and  _ beautiful _ sensation after going through all that hell. He couldn’t think, everything fuzzy and dull at the edges, his cock hardening and throbbing almost painfully--

Maybe Ienzo felt it happen, or maybe he just had more wherewithal than Demyx to realize what exactly was going on here. He sat up, breathing hard, looking shocked. With one trembling hand he touched his mouth. “I… I, um.” Ienzo eased off of him. “What was that?”

“Uh,” Demyx said. “Huh.”

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t be sorry. I kissed you back.”

“I feel I can’t control myself and that shouldn’t be your problem. All these realizations must have sapped my self-control--”

“It’s fine.” 

He stood. “Well… I’ll…”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat. “Good day.” He left in silence, closing the door behind him. Demyx sat up, shaking, want still bleeding heavily from him. This was a bad idea. Having sex… with… Zexion? No, Ienzo. He’d never felt like that before. No wonder it used to be so easy to manipulate people in those days… None of his brief encounters in his time on other worlds were close. Everything about humanity was so messy and intense--

He rested his hand against his dick.  _ I shouldn’t. _ But yet the thought of living with this feeling for long was almost unbearable. The thought of Ienzo’s mouth on his, his lips against skin… He slid his hand below his waistband and began stroking it. Anything to feel normal again, to get the idea of this out of his head. He was just latching on to the literal first person he’d come in contact with. It was  _ not _ a good idea.

Yet even just touching himself felt too good… what would it feel like if they… if they hadn’t stopped? If Ienzo had held him down and  _ fucked _ him--

There was more to it. That vulnerability, that confusion, that  _ humanity. _ Demyx had never seen it in him. For a moment they had just connected like two people.  _ Two normal people. _ Instead of hypothetical sex, he found himself thinking what it might be like to not be alone… to work through this whole complicated life together…

As he came, for a moment it was all bearable. But once the feelings began to fade, Demyx knew there was no chance in hell of it actually working. And now he had a mess to clean up. “Fuck me,” he muttered, aware of the irony. 

Well. At least this new life was  _ interesting. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx starts his new job. He and Ienzo grapple with what happened.

The next morning, Demyx tried to put thought of that encounter out of his mind. How on earth was he going to face Ienzo now? And with Even still giving him the freeze-out (har har), what if he started feeling sick again?

He remembered what Ienzo said, about not being able to do anything right. It was something they had in common.

He hadn’t been left breakfast, but he wasn’t feeling hungry, so he decided to just tough it out and buy something for lunch later. On his way out of the castle, though, he was stopped by a tall blonde man with slicked-back hair and a white coat--the fabled Ansem the Wise. 

“No need to look frightened,” the man said in a surprisingly deep voice. “I don’t believe we’ve actually met.” He offered his hand to Demyx. “I’m glad you seem to have made a full recovery.”

Demyx took it. The handshake was firm. “Um, thank you. And thanks for letting me stay, uh, your majesty.”

Ansem just laughed. “None of that, please. I am no king.”

“But I thought--”

“Oh, I was, once upon a time. But things have changed. I was actually hoping to talk to you, about the room.”

Demyx felt his face heat. “I just got a job, if you give me like a week I can scrape up some money--”

Ansem held up a hand. “I was going to say. I’m sure staying in that infirmary isn’t helping your spirits. There are plenty of actual bedrooms near the apprentices’ quarters. I insist you take one--unless you’d rather seek lodging elsewhere.”

“Are you… sure?”

“So much space sitting there empty. In a place this old, if it isn’t used, it decays. You’d be doing  _ me _ a favor.”

“...Thank you,” he said softly. 

“This life is hard enough without also having to struggle to get one’s material needs met.” He offered a smile. “A job, you say?”

“With Scrooge? McDuck? He kinda stopped me on the street.”

Another warm laugh. “Yes, that sounds like something he’d do. He’s been doing a lot of work to help rebuild the town. Well I won’t make you late.”

“Thanks again, er. Ansem.”

“Any time.” He turned and headed down a hall away from Demyx.

So. That guy was Ienzo’s old man, if Demyx were putting the pieces together right. Taking into account Ienzo’s emotional outburst when they’d reunited, it made sense. He seemed kind, like someone’s grandfather. (And Demyx hated to admit it, but he could see how the guy could be manipulated.)

He shook his head quickly. He was going to be late if he didn’t hurry.

* * *

The inside of the post office was cool and kinda dark. He’d been given a dark blue apron, mostly to hold labels and pencils. His new coworker seemed very relieved he was taking over. “I’m running this  _ and _ the shop  _ and _ coordinating deliveries. It’s too much for one person,” she said. “Look, it’s an easy job. All you have to do is take the letters and packages people drop off, weigh them and charge them correctly, and sort them by delivery district or out-of-town. There’s a chart here and everything in the back is clearly labelled.”

“Um,” Demyx said. “How do I work the computer?”

“Oh! That.” She rattled off some instructions. “There’s a booklet under here if you forget. I know it sounds like a lot, but there’s a good amount of downtime a lot of days. Feel free to bring a book, or play on your phone, or something. Also you don’t have to stand all day, you can sit on that stool over there. And let me know when you want to take lunch. Okay good luck!” She was already walking away, back over to the other part of the room where the store was.

Demyx sighed. “Well. Alrighty then,” he murmured.

To his chagrin, he found that his trainer was right; there  _ was _ a lot of downtime, and the job was pretty easy once he figured out the weird computer system. (He struggled in front of his first customer, an old woman. “You’re new, aren’t you dear,” she said sweetly.) He found himself… just watching the people that went in and out of the shop. At least he was getting paid to do nothing instead of doing nothing for free. Come to think of it… he wasn’t sure exactly  _ how much _ he was making or when he was allowed to leave.

“Ah! There you are! Settling in well?” Scrooge asked. Demyx had to look down to meet his eyes.

“So far so good,” Demyx asked. “Um, what are my hours, exactly? And how much am I getting paid?”

“That’s why I was coming over to speak to ye.” He slapped a packet of paper onto the counter. “Here’s some paperwork that’ll tell you  _ all _ you need to know.”

“Er… thanks.” He took a pen out of his apron. He began to fill it out, and realized very quickly that there was a  _ lot _ of information about himself he  _ simply didn’t know. _ Like his birthday, for example. Demyx somehow knew he was twenty-three, whatever that meant, but the birth year that would be didn’t feel right. He didn’t know his last name, or where he was from. And his previous work experience was  _ bad guy part of an evil cult _ for the past six years or so. 

“Something wrong, laddie?” Scrooge asked, looking up from his phone.

“I don’t, uh, know a lot about my past?”

He shrugged. “Just fill in what you know.”

Demyx did. He found that the gig might just be better than he thought--the money was downright decent compared to what he’d seen on other worlds. He handed the paperwork over and was dismissed for lunch. He treated himself to noodles and sat, watching the people that passed by. In a lot of ways, it felt a lot like doing reconnaissance.

_ What’s that woman over there doing? Picking up a sack of something. Judged by the signage of the shop and the shape of the package, it looks like laundry… _

_ Kid throwing tantrum. Young man (dad?) unsure why but if he turned kid around he’d realized the kid sat in a puddle. Probably wet and cold and tired. _

_ Two young women carrying pots of flowers (gardeners?). Knees dirty. One wearing a sun hat. Coming this way? Coming this way-- _

Demyx dropped his eyes, too late. One of the women was about his age, the other one a teenager. “You’re Demyx, right?” the one in the hat asked. She had long brown hair and bright green eyes. 

“Um,” he said.

“You probably don’t remember,” she said. “My name’s Aerith. With the restoration committee? Even asked me for advice when you were sick. I practice healing on the side.”

“With all her free time,” the teenager remarked.

Despite himself, his eyebrows shot up. “Even asked for advice?”

She laughed a little. “They weren’t sure you would make it. He wanted to see if… he was doing all that could be done. It’s good to see you well again.”

“Oh… thanks, I think.”

She smiled. 

“We should get going,” the other girl grumbled. “These things are  _ heavy _ , and Cid has so much he wants me to get done, like he doesn’t sit on his ass all day.”

“He’s helping Riku,” Aerith said. “He’s… not exactly computer savvy.”

“Uh- _ huh _ ,” she drawled. “I’m going to go on ahead.”

“Excuse her,” Aerith said. “Yuffie has… complicated feelings about the old Organization members.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Demyx said. “I do, too.”

Another grin. “So what are you doing here?”

“Scrooge harassed me into a job. It’s my first day.”

“It’s good he’s finally getting more help. Nobody was biting.”

Oh, great. “Any reason why?”

“So many people are more focused on rebuilding their homes. And not a whole lot of people  _ know _ about the new postal service. Everything’s very… up in the air right now.” She shifted the pot to her hip.

“You can say that again.”

“Are you going to stay long term?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know where else to go. Gotta start somewhere.”

“That’s true. Well. I hope you like it here.”

“...Thanks.”

She tipped the brim of her hat. “Enjoy the rest of your workday.”

* * *

Much to Demyx’s relief, the rest of the day went by quickly, and at five he headed back to the castle, grabbing some dinner for himself on the way. It was nice to have disposable income again. Maybe he should start saving. But for what? A house? A ticket out of here? Where would he go?

Well. When his full weekly check hit he could at the very least get some trinkets for his new room. It wasn’t like moving would take long--all Demyx owned was a pocket-dimension sitar, a few changes of clothes, and some toiletries. Ansem had sent him a map earlier marking out any of the rooms he was free to choose from.

But being near the apprentices meant being near Ienzo… and after yesterday… Despite himself, he felt a flush of arousal and had to take a deep breath to will it away. If he really wanted sex, he could try to date in town. Easy peasy, right?

They’d have to talk about it at some point. What had happened. 

All of Demyx’s possessions managed to fit in a makeshift blanket bag. He set off towards the first of these rooms, the ones farthest from the rest. Ansem had inexplicably marked who lived where. Best to keep his distance for now.

It was actually pretty nice. Old mahogany furniture. A double bed. A bathroom with a bathtub, unlike the shower he’d been used to. The place had a few things left behind of someone else’s--some books, a few candles--but other than that was empty. Some patches on the soft blue wallpaper showed where pictures had once hung. Demyx touched one. The texture was silky. This place had once been luxurious.

It needed a good cleaning. He exhaled; he’d have to ask someone where stuff could be found, sheets, blankets. He debated who might be the best person to ask for a while before he heard a voice.

“...Master Ansem had mentioned you’d be joining us.”

His heart surged, but it wasn’t Ienzo. “Hi, Lex--ah. Aeleus.”

He offered a stiff smile. “Isn’t it strange? How so many things have changed, but yet, there are familiar faces in this castle.”

“Different castle,” Demyx remarked. 

“...Different faces, to a degree.”

“Do you feel different, now that you’re human?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

Demyx waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “I know what you mean,” he said softly.

He bobbed his head once. “Let me show you the kitchen.”

“Also, I, um, need sheets? And stuff to clean with?”

Aeleus nodded again. “Come with me.”

They walked in silence. Aeleus pointed out a small laundry room, a kitchen with outdated appliances, a closet where supplies and sheets could be found. “Do you feel like you’re home?” Demyx asked. “Isn’t this where you lived before?”

“It is different than it once was,” he said. “Most of all us. But admittedly, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Here I can be of use. I can protect the ones who mattered most.”

“Right. Weren’t you and Zexion really buddy-buddy?”

Evidently this was the wrong thing to say; the slip in his expression was slight, but Demyx could see it. “Ienzo and I are close, yes.”

“I’m sorry, did I… say something?”

Aeleus blinked. “No. You’d have no way of knowing, would you?”

This did not illuminate anything.

“I failed to protect him… twice. Never again.”

Demyx swallowed. He wondered if this had anything to do with the massacre at Castle Oblivion. “Well… second chances, and all that.”

“And all that.” Aeleus nodded. “Let me know if you have trouble finding anything else.”

It became clear very quickly that a thorough cleaning was going to take a lot longer than Demyx had energy for; he still wasn’t fully back to normal, and the long walks to and from the castle didn’t help. Contrary to popular belief, he actually liked cleaning; it was hard to chill in a dirty space, after all. But seeing all the dust and grit, and after a full workday, he just couldn’t do it. The most he could do was make the bed and make the bathroom somewhat habitable. He showered, shoved his somewhat-cold takeout into his face, collapsed onto bed, and fell immediately into a deep sleep. 

Demyx dreamt.

More of those vague dreams, places and people he did not  _ quite _ know, but it flooded him with a thick sense of dread and fear. He woke up gasping and, for some reason, crying, dazed and disoriented. But much like before, the dreams bled away into nothing, making him wonder why he was sobbing for no reason. 

Maybe tea or water would help?

Once the sobbing had subsided into hiccups, he chanced going into the kitchen. The light had been left on, illuminating the hallway. He started the kettle and sat for a long moment with his head in his hands.

“Oh--I--”

Not only did the voice startled him, it filled him with dread. He looked up and saw Ienzo, in his pajamas. 

There was an embarrassed flush in his face. “What are you doing here?” he asked evenly.

“Ansem, um, thought I might be more comfortable living in a real room.”

“Of course he did,” Ienzo muttered.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted some tea and then I’ll go--” He shot up to shut the kettle.

“Wait, Demyx.” A sigh. Then, “were you… were you upset?”

“I had a bad dream.” The water wasn’t quite hot enough for tea; he exhaled in frustration.

Ienzo took the kettle from him and set it back on the burner. “Here. Listen, I… about the other day--”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t. I acted unacceptably. I should not… take out my overflows of feeling on you. It didn’t… it didn’t mean anything.”

Demyx felt a stab of pain. “Oh. Gotcha.”

“But I must thank you for the comfort you gave me. I would’ve never come to that conclusion on my own.” The kettle was whistling loudly now; Ienzo shut it. He took out two mugs. “Which kind of tea do you prefer? I find chamomile is good at night.”

“Uh… sure.”

Ienzo put a bag in each of the mugs. “Well… with that settled…”

“Sure.”

Ienzo thought they were going their separate ways; but it turned out that their rooms were in the same direction. Demyx took a shaky breath, gesturing to the door of his new room. “Well this is me.”

“Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Seeing his back turned, the words left him without permission. “I really liked it.”

His head snapped back.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

He took a step closer to Demyx. Clutched his mug. Seemed to be grappling for words. Finally, in a low voice, “I did too.”

Demyx cleared his throat. “Do you wanna come in and talk for a few minutes?” He sat down on his unmade bed. Ienzo sat down next to him.

“Isn’t this all so strange?” he asked in a low voice. “Being human?”

“I… I guess so. I just… I don’t know where to start,” Demyx said. “How to build this life.” He sipped at the tea. 

“I don’t either,” Ienzo admitted. “I have my work… but outside of work… what is there? The heaviness of the past, all these tight tense relationships between people… what is… left?”

“You.”

“And you.” He cleared his throat. 

“I still have trouble remembering things,” Demyx told him. “I either see memories in dreams, or not at all. And even then they don’t feel like they’re happening to me.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t know if I  _ want _ to know. If whatever Xemnas said was right.”

“What did Xemnas say?”

His face flushed. “That apparently… he chose me, Luxord, Larxene, and Marluxia because we had… Keyblade legacies sleeping in the past, or whatever--”

Ienzo touched his arm. “Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know!” His voice came out harsher than he meant, and he lowered it. “I mean… why else can’t I remember anything? Doesn’t time travel wipe memories, or whatever?”

“It can,” Ienzo said. 

His hands were trembling.

“Or the amnesia could’ve come from any amount of things that happened to your heart,” he said gently. “Exposure to darkness, a spell gone awry. And anyway, if it’s just a  _ legacy _ , you might not even be a wielder. There’s no evidence to support that Keyblades are passed biologically. How do you feel about it?”

“I… I’m not sure,” he said. “I just… want to be a normal guy who knows his own name.”

“You  _ are _ normal. You just have a very extraordinary background.” Ienzo set his empty mug aside. “Demyx, you might just be the most normal person here.”

“Ha,” he said weakly. “What about you?”

"...I've just been feeling so many things," Ienzo admitted. "And they're all intense and unfamiliar…”

“Is that why you kissed me?”

He nodded. “I needed something to dull the pain. And you didn't hurt me, but I did make things more… complicated." He swallowed. "My body feels so strange to me now and I'm not used to feeling so clumsy or so wanting-- I used to be so eloquent, so in control, and now…"

"How did you feel? When you lost it then?"

His face flushed. "I felt relief. For a moment, it was all… quiet."

Demyx reached over and brushed his finger along Ienzo's cheek. He shuddered. "Would you want to… try it again?"

Slowly, he nodded. Demyx leaned over, feeling Ienzo's breath on his face, and their lips met. Hesitant. He felt a pale shock of that same intense lust, and Ienzo kissed him deeper. "Is it quiet now?"

"Sort of," he said. 

"...I'll just have to work harder." He slid his tongue into Ienzo's mouth and felt his own against it, curious and light. Demyx reached up to touch that impossibly soft hair. Ienzo pulled his hands through his; the scrabble of his fingertips against his scalp made him moan a little. Demyx flushed with embarrassment.

"Does that feel… good?" Ienzo asked.

"Just being touched…" He rested one hand on Ienzo's thigh, found it surprisingly firm. 

"Yes… I know what you mean."

Demyx eased his hand up a little farther; Ienzo exhaled. "I don't know what I want. But I…" Demyx traced small circles on his thigh; Ienzo gasped. 

"We could just… make out."

"...Yes… sounds… very good." Ienzo kissed him full on the mouth before working down his throat. His lips against Demyx's pulse made him shiver, his cock stirring. "You're noisy, aren't you?" He asked in a lower voice, one that only made Demyx harden faster.

"I… guess--" He took a sharp breath as Ienzo ran his tongue along the same spot. He eased Demyx down onto the bed and partially straddled him, and Demyx’s knee sort of ended up between his legs, and they both started.

“Oh,” Ienzo said, very softly.

“What’s wrong?” Had he kneed him in the balls by accident? But then, realizing a little more, Demyx couldn’t quite…  _ feel _ anything there.

He dropped his eyes. His grip on Demyx’s shoulders tightened a little. “As may have just become obvious… I don’t…  _ have _ what you’d expect.”

“Oh.” Then, “ _ oh. _ So you’re--”

He’d turned bright red. “...Quite.”

Demyx touched his cheek. “It’s okay,” he said. 

“Admittedly this is part of why things are so strange and overwhelming…”

“I don’t care,” Demyx said softly. “And I won’t tell anyone.”

“Mostly everyone here knows,” he said, still not meeting his eyes. “And I am not ashamed.”

“You shouldn’t be.” That part of him was still pressed against Demyx’s knee, warm through the thin fabric of his pajamas, and his dick throbbed a little. “Really. However I can make this work--”

Ienzo kissed him suddenly, hard, and Demyx pulled him closer, running his hand down the smooth muscle of his back. He reached for the hem of Demyx’s shirt, pulling it up over his head, sending a rush through him before, equally, the chagrin-- “Oh,” Ienzo said softly.

“I should’ve warned you.”

“Oh.” He sat up a little, still pressed  _ very firmly _ against Demyx’s leg. He took in the fine web of scars, especially the ones below his ribs. “How--”

“How else?” Demyx said lightly.

“Even never mentioned…” He traced them with his fingers, sending another shudder through him. “Does it ever hurt you?”

“No. Not really.”

Ienzo hesitated. He reached for the hem of his own shirt. 

“What are you--”

“You’ll understand.” He pulled it aside, revealing a thick line of scar tissue around his throat. 

Suddenly it made a whole lot more sense that Aeleus felt guilt for not being able to protect him. “Oh no.”

He smiled a little. “It was quick, at the very least.”

“Can… can I--” 

“...With just your finger. Not the whole hand.”

Demyx listened. The skin felt odd, puckered, under his fingertip. Ienzo gasped. “I’m sorry--”

His eyes widened. “No. It feels… it feels  _ good _ .”

“Do you think I could…” He leaned up and kissed it softly. Ienzo was trembling all over.

“Oh.”

“Okay?”

“Keep going.”

Demyx did so. Ienzo’s hips were pressed right against his cock. His whole body felt alive and new in a way he hadn’t experienced. He kissed along the scar gently, down along his collarbone. Ienzo shifted his weight, rubbing along Demyx’s leg, and feeling the warmth of it was almost too much. His hand slid down along Ienzo’s chest, the skin so smooth and pale and  _ soft _ , and he wanted to touch all of it. He rocked his leg gently against him and heard a soft moan.

Equally, Ienzo broke away and kissed at him, his own scars. The way he was moving was getting at him in all the right ways. Demyx had no idea what was about to happen and had the feeling Ienzo didn’t know either, but they both wanted  _ so badly _ for it to keep going. Demyx wrapped an arm tightly around his waist, pulling him closer, helping Ienzo grind a little harder. There was a sweet tightening in the pit of his stomach, getting steadily stronger, a warm wanting. 

For a moment they held eye contact, still grinding against each other, the unasked question of  _ should we stop _ . But it wasn’t like they were actually having sex. What  _ was _ this? Did it matter? There was this raw openness in Ienzo’s eyes Demyx had never seen, and he wanted desperately to know who he was below all this. To unravel him. 

Ienzo’s head bowed low, his hair partially obscuring his face, and Demyx heard him exhale heavily. He wobbled a little, struggling to keep himself up. “Oh,” he said again, and when he looked up his face was flushed with embarrassment.

“What?” Demyx asked. Then, realizing, “Did you… just…”

“Um,” he said. His eyes flashed. “Yes. I’m… sorry?”

“Why are you sorry?”

His words came out in a patter that overlapped Demyx’s last question. “It’s just, with this body, I can no longer accurately tell when I’m--”

“About to--”

“Yes. It feels so very different.” He pulled his leg back over. “Well I--”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” His cock throbbed almost painfully at his sudden absence. “I thought it would be harder to make you come,” he joked. 

“Evidently not.” His face was still flushed bright red. “Should I go?”

“Why?”

“You must be wanting to, uh… not let things get so… doesn’t it hurt if you--”

Demyx kissed him softly. He’d never seen this side of Ienzo, and not only was it adorable, it was also turning him on immensely. 

“If you’re just going to do it as soon as I leave,” he began. “Perhaps I should--”

Demyx’s face burned. “I mean if you--”

“I do want to. I do.”

There was a pause. Demyx laughed a little, and Ienzo did too. He couldn’t help it. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Ienzo reached up to untie the drawstring of his pants. Feeling his hands so close to that spot made Demyx weak. “You’re shaking,” Ienzo said in a low voice.

“I’m nervous.”

“Why? I just finished on your thigh.” He glanced down, seeing the  _ very obvious _ boner. “I promise I know what I’m doing.” He smirked a little, a smirk that just worsened the tightening in the pit of Demyx’s stomach. 

Demyx didn’t realize that Ienzo could be  _ sexy. _

He slid his hand gently over his underwear, stroking at his dick through the fabric. The touch was more of a tease than anything, and Demyx felt a fine sweat all along his body. He took a sharp breath. “Like this?”

Demyx didn’t particularly care  _ what _ Ienzo did, as long as he didn’t stop. He nodded, a small sound catching in his throat. His hips bucked up. 

Ienzo leaned forward, coming closer, enough so that Demyx could feel his warm breath on his face. He withdrew his hand, and Demyx nearly moaned out loud, but a moment later that same hand was going down his waistband and actually touching him. His skin was so  _ soft _ against his cock, but the hand was strong, rolling his thumb along the ridge of the head. 

It was all so  _ much _ . Demyx felt his head roll back, understanding with a new clarity how Ienzo hadn’t been able to  _ tell _ he was close when each sensation was brighter,  _ better _ than the last. Ienzo drew him into a kiss, working him faster, and a moment later Demyx couldn’t take it. It rushed over him bright and strong and for a moment he felt like he could truly  _ breathe. _

“We’re on the same page now,” Ienzo said. 

“You  _ do _ know what you’re doing,” he said dazedly. “For some reason I thought--”

He propped himself on his side. “Thought what?”

“I don’t know. Seems weird to me that Zexion would’ve tried to have sex with people.”

“I was curious more than I felt the urge,” he admitted. “Sex was such a component of manipulating people--I wanted to know what it felt like. It is  _ very _ easy to find willing participants in cities. But it was all so… clinical. And I was able to orgasm, but it didn’t  _ feel _ … the way it feels now.”

“There are feelings behind it,” Demyx said. Then, realizing, “Not, like,  _ feelings _ feelings but--”

“I know. You’re right.” A sigh. “They do say the mind is actually the biggest sex organ. Being charmed by a partner, becoming aroused… there’s an emotional component to it.”

“Did I  _ charm _ you?”

He lay back on the bed. “For a moment you saw me as I truly was,” he admitted. “I’m not sure anyone else ever has.”

He reached out to touch Ienzo’s face. “We can explore this,” he said. “What it means. How it feels.”

“...I should like that very much.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx and Ienzo begin to explore what their new connection means. Demyx remembers something.

So. That had happened. After Ienzo left (and Demyx cleaned himself up), he sat for a long time trying in vain to sleep. He was weirdly awake, and weirdly alert, and he could still  _ smell _ Ienzo on his sheets. 

What did this mean? Were they just seeking comfort in each other? And what if it went badly? Awkward enough to have to live through that too…

Demyx wished he’d stayed. His heart was fluttering weirdly, and for a moment he was concerned until he realized this was a feeling of some kind. He’d never have imagined being with Zexion, physically or emotionally.

Zexion wasn’t quite Ienzo. Demyx wasn’t quite  _ Demyx. _ Not anymore. Was there a future for them? Was he thinking too hard about it? Kissing him had probably been the only natural, nice feeling he’d had so far. 

He lay on his side and prayed for sleep.

* * *

For a few weeks, this life found a sort of normal. During the weekdays, he worked. Once he got the hang of it, the job  _ was _ easy, though it did have its busy days. He got sort-of friendly with his new coworkers, skirting questions about his past like the plague. Refugees were common in Radiant Garden, but so were painful pasts, so gradually they stopped asking. It was nice to see the accumulation of his work, and to a degree, give people what they needed, even if it was just mail.

_ Am I doing it? Am I helping? _

He went through a few odd periods of wooziness, where his heart would race and he’d feel nauseous and he’d have to sit down. Even believed it could just be one of the long term effects of the trauma he’d experienced, and gave him more medicine. The medicine, too, made him feel foggy.

“I suppose it’s good you’re still here,” Even said absently, taking the blood pressure cuff off of his arm. “Best to keep you monitored for a few months.” He was still cooler than usual since the hug incident, but at least he was no longer avoiding him. 

“Another thing to worry about,” Demyx murmured. 

“In _ deed _ . Some days all this life feels like is new small worries.” He shook his head. “But a normal life is our reward… we must adjust to it.”

“Is being human strange for you?” Demyx asked.

Even seemed startled. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Feelings. The new routine. Being back here after so long.” 

He paused, considering. “It is overwhelming to feel after so much numbness,” he admitted slowly. “But yet, what I feel… is very much earned.”

“Guilt? Atonement, or whatever?”

He nodded. “Quite. Without guilt, I don’t think I would be nearly so driven to put things right. I’ve wasted so much time exploring my own petty desires for the future. No more.”

“What will you do?”

His eyes glinted, and he cocked his head a little. “Since when are you so invested in our goings-on?”

“Since I live here. Since some mad scientist convinced me to join the good guys.”

Demyx thought he saw a ghost of a smile. “First I will do all in my power to help the guardians of light find Sora. If that ever happens--or more likely, when they accept that he is gone--I will do my best to help others. I have a diverse skillset, an education. That can go far in a reconstruction.”

“Would that make you happy?”

“My happiness is not important,” Even said shortly. 

“I think it is.”

He looked horrified for a moment. Then, composing himself, “I should be getting back to the lab. Let me know if the fogginess doesn’t pass in a few days. We can adjust the dose.”

“I mean it, Even.”

He turned just slightly. “I know,” he said, and left. 

* * *

It was still tricky to navigate this new reality with Ienzo. Finding time to be alone together, in inconspicuous places, was hard. Their rooms were free during the day, but they were  _ busy _ during the day, Ienzo especially. So during nights… odd moments off… Ienzo would take him to places hidden across the castle. Old storerooms, alcoves of the library. Places that, if they were not quite clean, were at least  _ private. _

Demyx loved being with him. Even if they were just making out, holding another person made him feel less alone. Grounded. Like he might be worth something.

Sometimes they just talked. About their days. Their work. Demyx saw pieces of Zexion creep out from time to time.

"Even refuses, as usual, to admit he's wrong," Ienzo said, with a scowl. "Seriously, thinking the  _ Homily Principle _ applies in this situation? Kairi's a teenage girl, a  _ princess of heart _ , and we found the Homily Principle only applied to men _ \-- _ "

Demyx nodded like he knew what that was.

"And when I pointed that out he pulled the experience card on me. So I  _ misplaced _ some of his papers." A smirk. "I didn't get  _ rid _ of them. And he's too prideful to ask. The only way to get anything done."

"Doesn't sound like you enjoy any of it."

Ienzo shrugged. "Doesn't matter if I do. It's necessary work. We owe Sora much to… our being here."

Demyx flinched.

Ienzo took his hand. "I know you have bad memories of him. Forgive me."

Demyx sighed. "When push comes to shove, I attacked him first."

"You did?"

"Yeah." He swallowed. "I just… I dunno. Something in me broke at that moment. I knew I was sent there to get killed. To buy time. Seeing him… hearing what they were calling me… it was a buildup of a lot of things. A lot of insults. Somehow it felt like one more jab by the Organization."

"Yet you joined them again," Ienzo pointed out.

"What was I supposed to do?" Demyx asked him. "What would you have done if you were me, with no memories--nothing?"

"You have a point," Ienzo said softly.

"And anyway I regretted it. But by then it was too late. Part of why I jumped ship."

"I'm glad you did."

He said it so earnestly. Demyx smiled. "I am too. Things suck right now, but at least I have a choice. I can't remember the last time I did."

He nodded. "Me too, in a way." He leaned forward and kissed him, and Demyx kissed him back.

"I often wonder if this is a bad idea," Ienzo said. "Yet… to feel good for once… to feel  _ normal-- _ " His gasped; Demyx had started to kiss at his throat. "Why should we suffer unreasonably?" He worked to pull off Demyx's flannel, easing his weight on top of him. The floor below him was carpeted, at least. 

"...Is this suffering?"

Ienzo pressed his hips harder against Demyx's. "I could  _ make _ you suffer."

He smirked. "It does  _ not _ surprise me you're into that."

He smiled wickedly, and Demyx hardened. 

Demyx reached off to work at Ienzo's shirt. They hadn't gone this far since the first time. Demyx wanted to know everything about him, what made him work. He pulled Ienzo closer and kissed at his shoulder, down across his nipple, hearing a small, soft moan. "Moreso you love instant gratification," Ienzo muttered.

"Haven't we waited long enough to feel things?"

"I don't know. Have we?"

He kept working the same spot. Ienzo's breath hitched, and his hips bucked a little against Demyx's. Demyx let his hand slide down Ienzo's side between his legs. He glanced up, making sure this was okay. All he could really feel was heat and fabric, but something in Ienzo's face had slackened. "Could I touch you?" He asked. "Like, really--"

His face flushed, and he nodded. "...Quite."

Demyx undid the button of Ienzo's pants. Anticipation made him shake, his cock throbbing. He felt at him through his underwear, trying not to shake. "Tell me… how to make you feel good."

He nodded. He seemed dazed. It took a moment of steeling his nerve before he grasped at Ienzo's waistband. The skin there was feverish. Demyx eased on top of Ienzo and let his hand move down, across the smooth wiry hair. Ienzo gasped. 

It almost startled both of them. Actually  _ feeling _ that skin made Demyx weak. He traced his hand along the outside of it. "You're really, um, wet," he murmured.

"Are you going to do something about that?" Ienzo asked, his eyes challenging. 

He felt another shimmer of arousal. He nodded. Demyx felt along him, the opening, trying to find the--

"Here," Ienzo said. He guided Demyx's hand up, until he found the hardened little nub. Demyx took it between his fingertips and stroked it gently. Ienzo's grip on him tightened. "Yes."

"Yes?" A flush of heat shot through him.

His eyes fluttered. Demyx worked it a little harder, gratifying in the change in breath. "Y-you can--"

Demyx teased Ienzo's opening. The warmth of it made him shaky. He wanted nothing more than to feel that tightness around him, but he'd have to settle for this. He kept rolling the clit between his fingers before chancing to slip one inside of him. Ienzo pressed his hips against his hand and moaned softly. Demyx's dick twitched, his pants uncomfortably tight. Making Ienzo feel good…  _ felt  _ good. Demyx kissed him on the mouth, not stopping that motion. "It seems your musicianship… is good for something," Ienzo said breathlessly.

"Do you want me to play you?"

"That--you're already doing." Ienzo's thighs tensed.

He smirked. "What, are you close?"

"You… you wish…" His voice wavered, but feeling his hips buck, Demyx knew better. He pressed another finger into him, less of a tease this time, and the push and pull was almost too much. 

"You feel so good," he whispered, without meaning to.

Ienzo took a sharp breath. Seeing him open, and relax, sent another shiver down Demyx's spine. He kissed him again, more deeply, and heard a soft, startled squeak. Ienzo spasmed against his hand, a hot fluttering, and Demyx almost came right then. He eased his fingers out of him.

Ienzo was still breathing hard. "Oh…"

"Guess I did okay."

Dazedly, he nodded. "Yes… okay…" He pressed his lips to Demyx's throat. "Can I…"

"Please. Please." He let Ienzo ease him back. He tugged at Demyx's pants, his underwear, taking his cock out and into his hand.

"You have a beautiful dick," Ienzo told him in a low voice, fucking it with his fingers. "Has anyone told you that?"

Demyx was dizzy. "No."

"How can I make you feel good?"

"Just… along the…"

Ienzo rolled his fingers against the ridge and tip. "Like this?"

"God, yes."

"Is this how you touch yourself?"

He shuddered. "You do it better."

He smirked. "Is that so?" 

Demyx reached up to cup his face. Ienzo kissed him, almost indulgently, stroking his cock harder. The pit in his stomach was nearly painful. 

"Do you want to come?"

"Please."

"Please?" He kissed Demyx's throat. "Okay. Since you treated me so well." He tightened his grip, and Demyx finished, almost with force. The relief was hot and cold, and he heard himself moan. "Look at you." Ienzo pecked him on the mouth. "So beautiful."

"I want to… learn more about you--"

Ienzo shushed him. "Why don't we relax?" He wiped his hand with a handkerchief and rested his head against Demyx's chest. "Just relax."

It was easy to do so now. Ienzo smelled and felt so good in his arms. 

“You know sometimes you’re the only person I can bear here,” Ienzo admitted, to his chest.

“ _ Sometimes _ ?” Demyx scoffed a little. “Is this dependent on my ability to get you off?”

He kicked him, but it was gentle. “That is a bonus.” A sigh. “I’m being serious.”

Demyx stroked his hair. It really was unfair how soft it was. “What about your, uh, dad? And Aeleus? I thought you guys were good friends?”

“We were.”

“So what happened?”

Ienzo propped himself up. “The ramifications of the past…”

“What, that he said he couldn’t protect you?”

Ienzo frowned. “He said that?”

“I mean I just thought--”

A sigh. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. You know I was a boy when I became a Nobody. The experiments happened in the two years before that. But shortly after they began… my father forbade them.”

“So why didn’t they stop?”

“Because Xehanort convinced the others to send him to the realm of darkness.” He sat up, pulled away. “And they told me he’d gone insane.”

“Oh, no. Oh, shit.” He swallowed. “Zo… that’s horrible…”

A nod. “I learned about the lies as Zexion and I didn’t care. But now--”

“You do. Because you can feel.”

He nodded. “Often I feel I’m walking on eggshells around them. And I rather wish it were the other way around. I want them to…” He looked at his hands. “I want them to hurt for what they did to me. And what does that say about me and my atonement?”

“But you’re not  _ acting _ on that desire.”

“...No.”

Demyx squeezed his hand. “You can’t help how you feel.”

“So I’m learning.”

He pressed a kiss against his brow.

“Demyx, do you ever think about what you did in the Organization?”

He hesitated. “Not as much as I should. I never… killed anyone?” His voice rose a little. “But at the same time… even just gathering intelligence, we become complicit in… whatever Xemnas decided to do. The worlds that fell because of information I gave him… It’s like a house of cards.”

“Quite.”

“And I just… especially at work, I’m like… should I be doing more to help?  _ I want to help. _ It’s this little voice and it’s just getting louder.”

“You feel that way?”

His eyes were watering. He nodded. “But I’m not smart, like you, I don’t have an education. I only started doing  _ anything _ because some guy off the street stopped me. And it’s kind of scary--” The words were pouring out of him; he hadn’t realized how badly he needed to talk about this. “Is this who I was all along? Is this who I could’ve been?”

Ienzo nodded. His eyes were glinting. 

“Just doing whatever I want seems too goddamn…” He grunted. 

“Masturbatory?” Ienzo offered.

“Yes! But I don’t know how else to build my life because I spent  _ so many  _ goddamn years listening to this or that adult who thought they knew better.” In it, a flicker of insight, a memory, and for just a  _ second _ \--

_ \--Fly away to the world outside! _

_ \--Rebuild the world. _

_ \--The war is going to destroy everything-- _

_ \-- “This is all your fault!” _

_ “Elrena, you don’t understand--” _

And it was gone.

“Demyx?” Ienzo prompted.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “...A war?”

“Demyx?”

“Elrena?” The tears were hot on his face. “But isn’t that--”

“Larxene’s Somebody?”

“Why was she…” It felt like someone else was crying. “Why was she so mad at me? What did I do?”

“Larxene was always mad at you,” Ienzo said.

“It wasn’t Larxene. We were…” His heart felt like it was breaking. 

“...Human,” Ienzo finished. “You were human together in the past, weren’t you?”

“I think so.” He struggled for breath. 

“Elrena is complete now, wherever she is,” Ienzo told him. “She’s fine.”

Demyx shuddered. What was so awful that her hatred of him remained through two lives without memories? “I think I hurt her. In the past. Somehow. I did something--bad. But  _ what _ ?”

It seemed the flash of memory had stopped. 

“I wish I knew,” Ienzo said. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

He turned slowly. “Does the name “Strelitzia” mean anything to you?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx tries probing into his past, starts working with the restoration committee.

Ienzo frowned. He shook his head. “Perhaps a friend of yours?”

Demyx waited, to learn more. Nothing happened. “Maybe…”

“Perhaps a mutual friend perished in battle, and Elrena blamed you,” he said. “Perhaps your distaste of fighting came from that time then.”

“Because we were Keyblade wielders, you mean?” It made sense. He scoffed. “Maybe I was always a coward.”

“Or maybe you were a frightened child,” Ienzo pointed out. “As you so bluntly said to me, prior to being in the Organization, you were a  _ child. _ ”

“Seventeen. Bit older than you were.”

“Seventeen is still young enough to be scared and overwhelmed.”

“...Destroy everything,” Demyx murmured. “The first Keyblade war… that’s the one that shattered the World, right?”

“Yes.”

“What if I’m from then?”

Ienzo shook his head. “That’s not possible. A person can only time travel to a point where they had a body, or into a replica. If it’s been that long, you would’ve naturally died long ago. And your body is organic.”

Demyx didn’t quite buy it. He just hummed. 

“Recall Xemnas was a master manipulator,” Ienzo said, brushing a few strands of hair out of Demyx’s face. “He may have been right about the Keyblade legacy, but he was likely trying to throw you off. Make you dependent on him for answers. Don’t let him keep winning.”

Demyx nodded. “Thank you.”

A small smile. “Of course.”

* * *

Demyx tried not to think about it. Those flickers and pops of memory. It was his first substantial view into his own past.  _ Was I always bad? Was I always worthless? _

He went to the library to see if he could do any digging about that time. All he found were literal fairy tales, legends, nothing based in scientific  _ fact _ . He got so desperate he even asked  _ Even _ , but much like Ienzo all the man did was shake his head and say it was impossible.

“These memories could be corroborations,” he said. “Your heart and mind were particularly vulnerable when he told you that, if I gather the timeline correctly.”

The feelings were too real to be made up. Demyx stuttered out an approximation of that thought.

Even squeezed his hand. “You may feel fine, but you’ve experienced much lately which may make things hazy,” he said. “These memories could also come from an attempt to not process what Xigbar did to you.”

“You don’t believe me,” Demyx said.

“I’d believe you if it were remotely possible--which it isn’t,” Even said. “It was a lie, Demyx. Xemnas lied to you.” 

“Then how come all of us have no memories?”

“It could be any number of factors. Darkness, trauma. Maybe it  _ is _ time travel, but not from so far in the past.  _ I don’t know, _ Demyx.” A hint of Vexen’s edge crept into his voice, and Even flushed. “I’m sorry for the sharpness of my tone. Obviously none of this is your asking. Were I not so split… I would love to study you further.”

“Kairi?” he asked.

“...Quite. I will try to find some time in the coming days to see if there’s anything in our research that might provide answers.”

“I’m just making more work for you,” he said, and his tone fell flat. 

Even sighed. “Through no decisions of your own,” he said. “My goal now is to help people. I’m helping  _ you _ . Don’t see it as a burden to me.”

“I know,” Demyx said. He stood up, easing off the infirmary bed. He took a breath. “If I were wanting to help people too, where would I begin?”

He blinked. “Truly?”

He nodded. 

“I suppose you could give those restoration committee people a call,” he said. “They might have work… more your speed.”

“...Thanks.” Demyx tried to smile.

“Perhaps you’re sicker than I thought, if  _ you _ want to work.”

“Or better,” Demyx said, and left.

* * *

Demyx did as Even said. He got Aerith’s number from Ienzo. She was more than happy to put him in touch with Leon, their sort-of-leader. A day or so later he found himself facing a large garden flooded with a dozen or so years of undergrowth, armed with nothing but a shovel and a spade. 

“This will help people?” he asked Aerith, a bit dubious.

“Beauty helps everyone,” she said, with a smile. “Besides, in the back we’re going to put in a communal vegetable garden, and medicinal herbs. A lot of stuff we can still only get off-world.”

“...Really? I thought Radiant Garden was well-off.”

She stabbed her shovel into the ground, unearthing thick undergrowth. “It is, comparatively. But we have a long, long way to go before we’re back to where we were.”

Demyx dug in as well. His weeks of sickness had made his muscles soft, and he had to work harder to get as much out as Aerith. “What was it like?”

“It’s honestly hard for me to remember,” she said. “I was only eleven during the Fall. I just remember it being really clean, and full of light and water and flowers. There used to be a whole lot more shops--not stalls like the marketplace,  _ shops _ . And a full hospital. Nobody was ever hungry, or on the streets. We didn’t have to worry about much of anything. Master Ansem was a very good king.”

“...So I’ve heard.” Demyx kept clawing at the roots.

“Ah--use leverage, that way you don’t have to work so hard,” Aerith said, demonstrating. “See how the roots just break up? This undergrowth is taking nutrients that our plants need.”

Demyx dropped a handful of the roots onto the disposal pile. He could smell the wet earth, fresh and inviting. “What do you do with it?”

“Burn it for fuel. Or compost it.”

They hacked at the undergrowth for a while, until they had a sizable patch torn out.  _ I can’t believe I’m doing this during my free time, _ Demyx thought. If it weren’t for his calluses, his hands would be getting blistered to shit from the rough wood handles of the tools. 

“We can start with these guys,” Aerith said, handing him some seeds. “Don’t clump them too closely together.”

There was something odd, in holding these tiny seeds. Knowing they could sprout into something someone would eat someday. He watered them with the metal can and placed his hands on the soft earth.

The something was pleasure, he realized. A sort of pride. “I won’t accidentally kill these, will I?”

“No, squash are pretty resilient.”

They kept digging and planting almost in silence. “I gotta know,” Demyx said. “Why are you guys so okay with working with the old Organization members?”

Aerith turned to look at him. “Everyone deserves second chances,” she said

“That’s what Scrooge says too, but… you can’t really believe that? I mean…” He swallowed, remembering. “Even after you came back, they sent the Thousand Heartless.”

She exhaled. “I think I see it differently than the others,” she admitted. “We… we really need the help. And I don’t  _ feel _ darkness coming from them. I don’t know how else to describe it. Meeting Ienzo, especially. I knew he wanted to be a good person. ...It was a real trick, though, convincing Yuffie and Cid.” A gentle laugh. “But all the evidence, all the things we’ve heard… they’re trying to make up for what they did. We’d be stupid to turn down help from the only people who know how to fix these problems.”

Demyx hummed in response.

“...I don’t feel darkness from you, either.”

He met her eyes. She smiled. “I know you wanted to ask. It’s all confusing for you now. But it’s going to make sense. I promise.”

He blinked the sudden wetness from his eyes, and accidentally smeared dirt onto his glasses.

* * *

“...You smell like the earth,” Ienzo murmured, pressing his face against Demyx’s neck.

“You only gave me, like, fifteen minutes to clean up.”

“I like it. All I breathe in is static and paper. You smell real.”

“You should come plant with me sometime. Get some air.”

He let go. “Maybe I will.”

“So where are we going?”

He bobbed his head. “I’ve got a surprise.”

Demyx felt a flush, a shimmer of anticipation. He followed Ienzo down a few hallways he couldn’t recognize. Seeing him in casual clothes was still strange; today’s number was a black T-shirt that fit him snugly, showing his surprisingly defined biceps. Then again, Demyx had to guess some of those books got pretty heavy. 

All of a sudden Ienzo stopped. He coughed once, though Demyx couldn’t smell any more dust or dirt than normal. “Oh,” he said. “Not  _ now _ .”

“What’s wrong?”

The coughing worsened. It sounded dry, wheezy, not like an illness-borne cough. Like he had asthma, or was struggling to breathe. Ienzo stumbled a little and leaned against the wall, still coughing. 

“Should I get Even?”

Ienzo shook his head. One hand was cupping his throat, pulling the thin fabric away from the skin, as though that would somehow help him. “...Happens,” he forced out. 

“You sound like you can’t breathe.”

“It’ll pass.” He coughed hard into the fabric of his shirt, almost doubling over; then as soon as the spell seemed to have started, it stopped.

“...The hell was that?” Demyx asked.

Ienzo’s voice was still wheezy. “Partially due to how I passed,” he forced between breaths. “My diaphragm is a bit weak… sometimes it spasms. Makes it hard to take in air.”

“Is there a medicine you can take?”

“An inhaler,” he said. “And antihistamines… but it can’t cure it completely.” He straightened. 

“You’ll be okay?”

He brushed himself off. “Many, many people have asthma or bronchial spasms, and they are fine,” he said. “You needn’t worry about me. See? It passed quickly.” There was an embarrassed flush to his face.

Demyx frowned. “I thought I was the only one dealing with… stuff.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. Not quite. We all have something… going on, I suspect. Human bodies… simply can’t take a beating like a Nobody’s. And we wake up with our Nobody wounds, after all.” He sighed. 

“You feel okay to uh… do whatever you had planned?”

He scowled. “It’s only a little breathlessness.”

“I’m just worried about you”

The scowl faded. “Well, you needn’t,” he said, a bit more sarcastically. Then, softening, “I appreciate the concern. Come on.”

The hallways eddied out past several long stretches of stained glass, into a small, covered garden. A broken fountain and empty planters were against one wall. Half-alive plants filled the space; Ienzo had clearly tried to salvage them recently. In front of the fountain, Ienzo had set down a blanket, and a picnic basket. “A picnic?”

“This place used to be beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “My father used to cultivate orchids in here. But they are… fickle, delicate flowers.” He touched one of the plants. “Even if they live, they might never flower again.”

“I didn’t know Ansem was into botany.”

“He isn’t.” Ienzo’s smile became sad. “My biological father was his apprentice, once upon a time.”

“Oh,” Demyx said. “I’m sorry.”

“I scarcely remember him,” he admitted. “My mother, less. But I feel comfort when I’m here.”

“Thanks for sharing it with me. Really.”

For a moment they just held eye contact, and Demyx could see that guard ease, a gentleness coming into him he’d never seen. And in a blink it was gone. “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

Demyx’s day without meals suddenly caught up to him. “...Food?”

Ienzo smiled; it was a bit sly. “Oh, yes.”

They sat down. Ienzo took a few containers out of the basket, each wrapped in cloth to hold in heat. “A traditional pesto. Oh, and these are bits of skirt steak I marinated in molasses, garlic, with a little red wine vinegar.”

“You can  _ cook _ ?”

“What about this is surprising?”

“I just… I dunno.” He’d never actually seen Ienzo eat, he realized.

“You thought I lived off black coffee and spite?” He asked. “It’s true… most of the time I don’t eat much of anything intricate. But I find… now as a human, the ritual of it… calms me. And food just tastes better now.” He unwrapped one of the small bento containers and handed it to Demyx. “All it is is another thing to research.” He handed him a small bottle. “Wine?”

“...Fancy,” Demyx murmured, suddenly feeling guilty he’d come empty handed. 

“Not quite. The wine is only a table.” He popped open his and took a sip.

Demyx picked up one of the pieces of steak and put it in his mouth. It was probably the best thing he’d eaten since he was human. “Oh. My. God.”

“I brought sandwiches if you don’t like it--”

He grasped Ienzo’s arm. “You are amazing.”

“Har har.”

“I mean it, Zo. This is so good.” He had to restrain himself from gobbling it down like an animal. “If you’d told me, I dunno, I would’ve brought dessert or something.”

“It is  _ precisely _ not a big deal.” He was blushing. “I figure you’d appreciate a square meal or two.”

“...Says you. You look like you could probably gain a couple.”

“Maybe this is something we should try to do more often,” he said with a sigh. “Remind ourselves… we are human.”

“Hey, I won’t complain.” The pasta was equally delicious; a subtle intermingling of flavor. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“This is… I dunno… really nice.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. “It is, isn’t it,” Ienzo said. The sun was starting to set, and the light was soft and warm. “Oh, there’s more if you’re still hungry.”

Full, wine finished, they lay back and watched the sky in a pleasant haze. Demyx reached over and gave Ienzo’s hand a small squeeze. 

“Dessert would’ve been nice,” Ienzo admitted. Demyx laughed. “Oh well. Next time.”

Demyx looked at him. His eyes were  _ almost _ that open again. “Next time,” he said softly.

Ienzo leaned down and kissed him. He tasted a little bit of the wine, bittersweet, and he slipped his tongue into his mouth. Ienzo eased his weight on top of him, and Demyx wrapped his arms around him, feeling that smooth back, his toned ass. 

“I figured there was a reason you brought me here,” Demyx said.

“Can you blame me?” Pressing his mouth back against Demyx’s.

“I would’ve  _ never _ guessed you’re this horny.”

“Makes two of us. As though this is an arduous chore.” He trailed down Demyx’s throat. “Is it so bad, to be embodied?” Taking off his glasses and setting them aside. The world softened. Demyx reached up to take off that turtleneck. His skin was so  _ soft _ . Ienzo unbuttoned Demyx’s jeans. 

“You’re doing this because you want to, right?” Demyx asked.

Ienzo laughed. “No, I made you a picnic and brought you here because I  _ don’t _ want to spend time with you.”

“Just--being physical in general. You know we don’t always  _ have _ to?”

Slowly, he nodded. “I understand. Yes, I know.”

“Just… so you know.”

“Since when do you care so much--about anything?”

“I don’t know,” Demyx told him honestly. “I just do. It kinda hurts, actually.”

“It does,” Ienzo said, and there it was again, that delicious spark of vulnerability. “It truly does.”

“What can I do to stop it?” Demyx asked. “Hurting? You?”

Another laugh. “You are  _ not _ sly at all. It’s refreshing, actually.” He slid off Demyx’s shirt and kissed gently at those scars, making him harden almost instantly. “I’d have thought you’d want to woo me.”

“To be fair, I thought you’d need a whole  _ lot _ more persuading.”

“Let’s agree to surprise one another.” He trailed his fingers gently along Demyx’s thigh. “Could I go down on you?”

He gasped out loud. “Talking about surprises.”

“I do miss it.” Pulling off his jeans. Demyx should’ve felt exposed, in this odd little garden, but with Ienzo, he felt… safe? 

“Only if you let me do the same for you.”

Briefly, he looked horrified.

“If you want to! If you want to,” he clarified. “Or something else of your choice.” Trying to be sexy, probably failing.

Ienzo pecked him on the cheek. He slipped off Demyx’s underwear and suddenly he was naked in this place. Ienzo cocked his head a little, running his eyes over him like he was precious. “A deal is a deal,” he said. Feeling his hand along his bare skin made him floaty. Demyx reached for Ienzo’s pants, pulling them off, and tried to get his underwear too. “Can we… leave those on for now.” In a slightly sharper tone.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “Don’t be. It’s my own insecurity.”

“But you’re gorgeous.”

“I’d much prefer to look at you.” Kissing down his body. Was that his-- _ tongue _ ? Each little touch was its own sort of torture, making his dick  _ ache. _ “Relax,” Ienzo said.

Hard to do so when  _ Ienzo _ was about to suck him off. Suddenly this felt so much realer, more grounded, than rubbing each other off under clothing. More like actual sex. He tried, but then Ienzo took his dick into his hand, stroking so  _ gently _ , prising his thighs apart and kissing the sensitive insides. He felt the heat of his mouth against it, Ienzo’s hand still along the base, and he made a small, shrill noise.

This wasn’t fair.

Of course Ienzo was good at this. Ienzo was good at  _ everything. _ He ran his tongue along the ridge, then down along the shaft. Demyx grasped at his shoulders, and feeling his bare skin turned him on more than anything. Ienzo took it deeper into his mouth, his breath hitching a little. He hadn’t been lying; he  _ was _ liking this, the rhythm a bit erratic. He broke away for a second, pressing small kisses along his thighs, his sack, before taking it again. Demyx felt vaguely paralyzed, unable to do much more than stroke his hair. He looked down, meeting his eyes by accident, feeling an electric sort of shock when he saw Ienzo’s openness.

Suddenly he understood everything. Ienzo wasn’t using sex to avoid getting personal. It was the other way around. 

It didn’t help that he was  _ deepthroating _ him, beautiful tightness and heat, a sort of lightness he could feel all along his skin. “Hey,” Demyx said hoarsely. “I’m really…” Ienzo’s soft gasps were only making it worse. He squeezed Demyx’s hand hard. 

Demyx couldn’t help it. He tried not to thrust against his throat, moaning, everything feeling like it was turning inside out before abruptly breaking open.

Ienzo eased it out of his mouth and sat up. “Fuck,” Demyx said softly. “Fuck.”

He smiled a little. “You’re easy to please.” The vulnerability was still there, and Demyx noticed his hands were shaking a little. “I… I’m going to try. But I don’t usually… let people… see it.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“I just want to make you feel good.”

“I know,” he murmured. 

“Would you feel more comfortable with your shirt on?”

Ienzo shook his head. The color was high in his face. He lay down beside him. Demyx kissed him once (tasting salt). He had to make this worth it. He’d wanted to kiss his whole body for so long. To taste him. There was a fine film of sweat all along Ienzo. Demyx ran his tongue gently along the nipple, and hearing his soft gasp, worked it with more insistence, trailing his hand along Ienzo’s body. He was quivering all over. Demyx let that same hand tease his inner thighs, not  _ quite _ touching. 

Ienzo’s hand tightened in his hair. Demyx moved a bit farther down, to his surprisingly toned belly, wanting to taste that muscle, so he did. Ienzo groaned a little. Tentatively, he let his other hand slide between his legs. He didn’t so much as tense. Demyx stroked him through the fabric, feeling the heat and the dampness. He had to take it in small steps, first sliding his hand down his waistband, making sure to not  _ quite _ touch him, instead trailing a finger down the joint of his legs. “Okay?” Demyx asked. 

Dazedly, he nodded. Demyx pulled off his underwear. He knew  _ why _ Ienzo was so conscious about this, but at the same time couldn’t quite understand when he was so  _ beautiful. _

“Relax,” he said to Ienzo. “Just breathe.” He kissed down the fine hair below his belly button. He could  _ smell _ it, so strange and musky, and pressed a kiss down along the lips before trying anything more. 

The key was gentleness. Teasing. Demyx honestly had no idea if he was good at this or not--it had been a long, long time--but he had to try. He didn’t stay in one spot for too long, or in the same way, running his tongue along his clit, then down along the actual opening. At least the wetness was promising.

“Go back to… that thing before,” Ienzo gasped, so he did, tracing light circles around it. Ienzo’s thighs tensed. “Faster?”

All he did was listen, feeling another spasm roll through him. He could almost understand why Ienzo avoided this--he was so  _ exposed _ , had to be so trusting--but hearing a soft, musical sort of moan, hoped it was worth it. Demyx reached up to brush his finger along Ienzo’s nipple and felt his hand hold it there.

He ran the tip of his tongue along the opening again, pushing just slightly inside, and felt him shudder.  _ Why do you taste sweet, _ he thought. He rolled his tongue along the lips and returned to his clit, chancing to bring one finger up inside of him.

Ienzo cried out, startling him, and Demyx broke away. “I’m sor--”

“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

So it wasn’t a sound of displeasure at all. He doubled down. Ienzo’s hips strained against him. Demyx kept fingering him, but didn’t break away from his clit, not  _ daring _ . It was so hard now, and he was so  _ wet _ , and breathing in such a beautiful way. Ienzo’s hand squeezed his tightly, his whole body trembling. He heard a small “oh,” and then quite literally  _ felt _ Ienzo come, tension rolling through him.

Demyx pulled away. Gently. Wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ienzo handed him one of their picnic napkins. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Ienzo nodded. He was still breathless. “That was nice.”

He laughed a little. “Just nice?”

“You know what I mean.” 

Demyx lay down beside him, chanced wrapping an arm around him. Ienzo leaned a little closer. “Relaxed?”

“Yes. A… rare sensation for me. Please let me savor it.”

He kissed his brow. “Okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx remembers something. A night spent with Ienzo has unintended consequences.

Demyx found himself spending a lot of time in the new garden, more than was asked for by the restoration committee. He found the work tough but soothing; it was much more bearable once the undergrowth was cleared and they could do with the land what they wanted. He spent some weeks planting and tending to these tiny seeds; feeding and watering, coaxing tomato plants around trellises. As spring wore towards summer, his sunburns started giving way to a hesitant tan. 

It was nice to make something with his hands. Different than music. Less subjective. He knew he was doing well because the little plants were flourishing. 

He was trimming down some browned leaves on one of the zucchini plants (a rainstorm had overwatered them) when he heard a voice.

“...So this is where you spend all your time.” Dilan. He, too, looked odd in casual clothes. He had a bag slung over one shoulder. 

“I volunteered for the committee. They put me here.”

He reached forward and touched the tops of one of the carrot plants. “Found your green thumb?”

“Sort of. I guess. It feels… nice to do something with my hands.”

“Perhaps you might help us do restoration work in the castle,” he said. “All those gardens. They could use some work.”

Demyx didn’t know what to make of it. “Um, maybe.”

A pause. Neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“So, uh, what are you doing in town?” Demyx asked.

He smiled. “I’m not  _ always _ on duty.”

“Do you like being a guard?” 

“...I like it more than the alternative.”

“That’s fair.”

“I do not wish to go back to research. But without it… My life seems… open.”

Demyx considered this. “I know what you mean.” He couldn’t be sure how old Dilan was exactly. Mid thirties? Maybe a little older? “What would you do? If you could go anywhere or do anything?”

A pause. His violet eyes grew forlorn. “I rather liked France,” he said. “The food. The culture. It’s a gorgeous little world. City of romance, and all that.”

“Why not go back?”

“One should not drink from wells one has poisoned.” He smiled.

Organization stuff. “Oh,” Demyx said. “Does this place feel like home?”

Dilan took a breath. “Not quite,” he said. “So much has changed. Most of all us. I have so much to… make up for before I can even consider leaving.”

Ienzo.  _ They lied to me. _ He nodded once. 

“Have  _ you _ thought about going home?”

“I can’t remember it still,” Demyx admitted. “But I… I don’t know. It’s not so bad here.” Ienzo was here. 

“It isn’t,” Dilan agreed. “Well. I should head back.”

“Mind if I come with? I’m just about done.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.” 

Demyx stood and brushed the dirt off his hands. He felt a sharp pulse of pain in his lower back, disorienting him, and he winced.

Dilan frowned. “Are you alright?”

He swallowed the anxiety. The pain seemed to be fading. “I was just sitting funny.”

“If you say so.”

* * *

Maybe it was because of that, but Demyx found himself dreaming of the desert. The sharp hot wind. Aching thirst, a pounding headache. A feeling of weakness. His vision swarming, he walked. 

He saw a flicker--he thought he saw someone running-- “Wait, please, help--” He gasped, his throat too dry to make real words.

The flicker came back.

_ A girl with orange hair and a white dress-- _

“I know you,” he said. “I know--” He coughed.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said. “But I have to do it.”

“Don’t join them,” he said. “It’s--Strelly, it’s a cult.”

A hot wind. “I have to,” she said. “I was… I was  _ asked _ to. If we don’t do something we’re all going to die. I don’t want you to die.”

“...Pretty sure Elrena feels otherwise.”

A small smile. Her face was indistinct. “She doesn’t  _ actually _ hate you, you know.”

“...I know.”

“Tell me you’ll think about it?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now I gotta go. I’m finally going to meet my friend!” She started walking backwards, fading into nothing. “You’re right, I have to talk to them.”

“I thought we were… friends…”

* * *

Demyx woke up. There were tears on his face, and he felt like utter crap. A hot ring of nausea tightened around his throat. He ran into the bathroom and was promptly sick. He sat for a while, heaving, crying. After too long he found the strength to get up and brush his teeth. 

He, Elrena, and this girl Strelitzia had been friends. Was that right? Something about a decision, about her asking him to join her and he hadn’t because it felt like a cult.

_ People in robes and animal masks. _

“God,” he hissed, pressing a hand to his forehead. Had he always been coerced into cults? Was it that Elrena blamed him for letting this girl end up in one? 

It was still so unclear. 

The memory of the desert made his skin dry, so he showered. After that, he struggled to sleep. He wanted to be with Ienzo, to hold him. To breathe in his smell.

Demyx couldn’t. Could he? He bit his lip and considered. But the heaviness of his heart was only getting worse and his mind echoed with  _ your fault your fault. _

He took a deep breath. He opened the door to his room and headed down the hall towards Ienzo’s. He’d only been inside it a couple of times, and always in passing. It was always a bit messy--books and papers everywhere--a strange mishmash of the person he was when he was a child and now. He cracked open the door and saw Ienzo asleep--curled on his side, crumpled together like it hurt. He took a tentative step towards him.

The floor creaked.

Ienzo jerked awake, grabbing a pocket knife from the bedside table, cupping his throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.

“Demyx? What are you--”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned on the bedside lamp. “Are you upset?”

“I thought if maybe I was near you--” Then, realizing how pathetic that sounded, “I’ll go.”

“No, don’t.” He opened his mouth, closed it. He slid over on the mattress and opened the blankets. “Come. It’s alright.”

Demyx lay down next to him. Ienzo took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ienzo asked.

He nodded. “About the desert.” And a memory. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted… to not be alone.”

“It’s alright. Try and relax.” Ienzo brushed some of the hair out of his face. “Would you like me to hold you?”

A rush of humiliation made his eyes water. “Please.” Ienzo pulled him close. Demyx pressed his face against his chest, needing the steady beat of his heart. Once the worst of the fear subsided, he managed, “do you always stab people who come into your room?”

“Whenever I do actually manage to fall asleep--it makes me feel a little safer, to have the knife. I… still fear being backed into a corner.”

“...Of course,” Demyx said softly. Breathing in his smell was helping. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to move on?”

A long pause. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

“But I do think it’ll get easier.”

“It’s been easier since we started this.”

“...Yes.” He pressed a kiss against Demyx’s hair. “Try to sleep, okay?”

After a long time, Demyx did, deep and dreamlessly and peacefully. When he finally woke, it was with a little start; Ienzo had pulled away. 

“Go back to sleep. I have to get ready for work.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to. And so do you in a few hours.” He kissed him. “I’d like to see you later.” He ran his hand along Demyx’s jaw, the stubble. “Bit scratchy.”

“I can shave.”

“I kind of like it.” One last kiss. “You can stay.”

“No, I should… get up.” Demyx sat up and stretched. “We got a fuckload of letters yesterday and I didn’t get around to sorting all of them.”

He smirked. “You? Wanting to get a head start on your work?” He pressed a hand to Demyx’s forehead. 

“Har, har--”

A knock at the door. They both tensed; Ienzo had gone pale. “Ienzo, I have a question about these  _ scribbles _ ,” they heard Even say. “Might we discuss it on our way down?” The doorknob jiggled. Ienzo pressed hard against the door.

“Don’t come in. I’m getting changed.” He bit his lip. “Just--go down, we can discuss it then.”

“ _ Fine. _ ” He muttered some things that were indistinct. Ienzo let go of the door.

“That was close,” Demyx said.

“...Quite.” A reddish blush heated his face. 

“You don’t want them to know about us, do you?”

“It’s not  _ that _ ,” Ienzo said, just a touch too quickly. “It’s just…” He stammered. “Complicated.”

“They don’t know you’re gay?”

“They wouldn’t care about that.”

It started to become clear. “Is it because it’s me?”

“No,” he said, his tone not convincing.

Demyx got up. He squeezed Ienzo’s shoulder. “I get it. I’ll see you around, okay?”

* * *

Of course.

_ Of course. _

For a while Demyx ached vaguely. He refused to let himself cry over it. He’d been seeing this as more serious than it was. Ienzo had first kissed him  _ by accident.  _ Would he really want something real?

Did Demyx?

(He thought of how safe he’d felt last night in his arms.)

Would Even and the others be as friendly if they knew what had happened? Demyx wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t  _ smart _ enough. He realized he’d been allowing himself to think about a life for them--

“You alright, laddie? You’ve been staring at that letter for ten minutes.”

“Ah--sorry.” Demyx forced a smile. “Rough morning. Need more coffee.” He set the letter into its appropriate spot. He made a show of going over to the coffee machine and pouring a cup. 

“Well. If you ever need time, let me know,” Scrooge said. “We can’t make money when we don’t feel well.” He walked over to the other side of the shop.

Demyx tried to drag himself out of the miserable haze. He made small talk with his coworkers, with the customers. He ran a small delivery across town. It made his back ache again, so he sat down for a little while. He texted Lea to distract himself.

_ Hey. _

_ Demyx! How’s it going? _

_ Alright. Trying to kill some time at work. _

_ Work??? A job??? Good for you. _

_ It’s not bad. Sometimes I have too little to do. _

_ Too LITTLE? Are you feeling okay? _

_ Har har. _

_ So what do you do? _

_ I work at the post office. Off world letters and deliveries. Stuff like that. _

_ Sounds… actually pretty interesting. _

_ It can be. Sometimes. I actually like being kept busy now. Keeps me from thinking too hard. _

_ Really, DO YOU FEEL OKAY.  _ A pause. Then,  _ I know what you mean. Memories and thoughts and stuff? Icky. _

_ Very icky,  _ Demyx agreed. 

_ If it gets TOO icky, come visit, _ Lea wrote.  _ Sometimes a change in scenery can make a world of difference. _

_ Maybe I will. That is a threat. _

_ Ha ha. Now get off your phone and get back to work. _

He felt marginally better. He sorted some more letters. Jotted part of a composition on a napkin, but it was making him too sad, so he threw it away. He was under the counter trying to dig out a roll of stamps when he heard a “hello?”

Demyx yelped and bumped his head against the counter. “Sorry. Can I, uh… help… you…” He trailed off, seeing Ienzo. 

“I have a letter I need sent,” he said. Nothing in his face or tone indicated Demyx was any more than an employee. “Could you help me?”

He swallowed. “Sure. Where to?”

“It’s local.” He handed over an envelope, address facing down, and a small bill. “Will that cover postage?”

“Um… yep.” He gave Ienzo his change. “It’ll probably get to them by tomorrow. Or sooner.”

“Or sooner,” Ienzo echoed. “Thanks for your help.”

For a minute, Demyx stood holding the letter, feeling tears well. He was going to need to take a break and have a good cry, wasn’t he?  _ Pathetic. _ No wonder Ienzo wanted nothing to do with him when there were actual real-life implications--

He flipped the letter over. It was addressed to him. He took a sharp breath. Put up his “back after lunch” sign. Demyx headed to the back of the office, where he had a small bit of privacy. His hands were trembling, and he gave himself a papercut on the smooth, heavy paper. But the letter inside was written on looseleaf, and looked like it had been crumpled and smoothed a few times. He began bracing himself for more pain.

_ Demyx, _

_ You must forgive me. I am so clumsy and so, to a degree, still unable to realize the impacts of my actions. I feel I’ve been using you and that’s not fair to you. _

_ After this morning I was made to see this liaison in context, and take in all the complications. I realized I was afraid of petty judgement from those who have hurt me. I do not owe anyone explanations. You don’t deserve to be dangled endlessly while I work through problems. _

Demyx almost threw up.

_ However, I find the idea of ending this to be painful and wholly unappealing. You make me feel. You allow me to feel, to truly be human, to see myself outside of what I’ve done. Part of it is that person scares me. I do not know him. He is a stranger, weak and vulnerable. But I need him, and I want you to help me keep finding him. _

_ That… and I simply enjoy time with you. I enjoy seeing who  _ _ you  _ _ truly are. Someone who wants to work hard and to grow. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I wish to see who you are when you’re vulnerable too. _

_ I can deal with petty judgement. With any luck, we can prove them wrong. They were always wrong about you, after all. _

_ If any of this makes any sense… please meet me tonight in the garden. I’ll be waiting. _

_ Ienzo. _

  
Oh.

His heart was beating faster now. 

_ Ienzo was choosing him.  _

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to pass the time until later.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demyx and Ienzo reaffirm their feelings for one another.

Showered, shaved, shaking, Demyx made his way to that garden. 

_ He wants this. He really wants this.  _

He felt vaguely dissociated, time passing too quickly and too slowly. In the semidarkness, he saw the flickering bulbs of fireflies, and by the fountain, a small lantern.

“You came,” Ienzo said.

“I’m here.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how what I said would make you feel--”

“It doesn’t matter.” He took a breath. “I’m not good enough for you, Ienzo, I’m not smart enough. You deserve someone who can keep up with you--”

Ienzo drew him into an embrace. “I like you precisely  _ because _ you’re different,” he said. “You see the world  _ differently. _ And I need someone like that in my life. All I know is… the idea of hurting you or cutting you off…  _ hurts _ .” He swallowed. “I don’t fully understand these feelings. But I… we deserve a chance.”

“What about Even and Ansem and Dilan--”

“If they can’t see I’m better with you, they don’t deserve me.”

“Do you think you  _ are _ better?”

Ienzo nodded. “Feelings used to terrify me. They… still do. I’ve been… trying to quash them down, ignore them. It’s all so painful. But you’ve shown me there’s some good to it too.” He reached up and touched Demyx’s face. “How do you… feel?”

“I don’t… know,” he admitted. “It… really hurt this morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But that must mean I feel something… real? For you?” Demyx swallowed. “I want it.”

“I want it too.” The tension in him eased. 

Ienzo brushed a fingertip across Demyx’s lip. He leaned up and kissed him softly, slowly. A thick seed of relief settled in Demyx’s chest, though it didn’t quite ease the doubt.  _ He chose me. _ Ienzo eased his tongue into his mouth, pulling him closer, and for a long while they kissed until the lantern’s flame began to flicker. “Come with me,” Ienzo said in a low voice, grasping the lantern. 

Demyx followed him back to a new room, a bedroom off the beaten path. It seemed and smelled like it had been recently cleaned, and aside from furniture it was undecorated. 

“I used to come here when I needed to be alone,” he said. “Maybe you can share it with me?”

Demyx nodded. It was a quarter moon, and the light was bright and silver. Ienzo set the lantern on the bedside table. For a moment they just sat next to each other on the bed in silence. 

“Here,” Ienzo said, taking off Demyx’s glasses. “I’d hate for something to happen to these… though they do look so good on you.” He kissed his cheek, then trailed down his jaw, his throat, undoing the buttons with shaky hands.

“Why are you nervous?”

“I want to show you I care about you. I need to prove it.”

Demyx pulled him closer. Ienzo straddled him, his thighs tight and tense against Demyx’s. He let his hands creep up under Ienzo’s shirt, pulling it off. The moonlight almost made his skin  _ glow _ , and the angle was perfect for Demyx to kiss that scar, that collarbone. He heard Ienzo gasp, his hips rocking a little against him, a muffled and lovely sensation that made him harden. Ienzo tugged his own shirt off, tracing patterns along scar lines. 

“Look at you,” he said softly. He rested against Demyx for a moment, hugging him tightly. 

“This isn’t fair.” Demyx pulled a hand through his hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

Ienzo kissed him hard. Demyx felt one of his hands fumbling at the catch of his pants. It was more than a little awkward, but they managed to get out of their pants. The warmth of Ienzo’s skin was  _ almost too much _ and he wanted--

The kisses were messier now, needier, and Ienzo pressed him against the mattress. Ienzo rubbed at him through his underwear, making him gasp. His hips bucked up against him and for a moment they just moved together. Demyx felt the heat of him  _ right on his cock _ and gasped. “I… want…”

“What do you want?” Ienzo asked breathlessly. 

But if eating him out made Ienzo uncomfortable, how uncomfortable would being inside made him?

“You can tell me, it’s okay,” he said.

“I don’t want to… cause you… dysphoria? Or whatever?” He laughed nervously. 

“Oh, you mean--” 

“It’s just kind of rubbing right against--”

“It does feel good,” Ienzo admitted, almost with a groan. “It does feel…” His eyes rolled a little. Then a nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yes, I…” He eased up a little, to help Demyx out of his underwear. “I trust you.” He shifted forward to ease off his own. Ienzo pulled him close, and rubbing up against each other without anything at all was even brighter. “Yes,” he said again.

Demyx chanced touching him. He was starting to get to know it, where to touch him and for how long. The clit was hard, and he gratified in knowing he could make him feel this way. He slipped a finger into him, the anticipation of  _ more _ making Demyx shake. Ienzo bucked against his hand and grasped at his cock. 

Demyx pulled his other hand through Ienzo’s hair and kissed him. The edges of his vision, already blurry without glasses, grew even more distant. 

Almost hesitantly, Ienzo pulled away. “Can you help me?” his voice was hoarse, immediate, only turning Demyx on more. He propped himself up.

In it all, just a lick of sense. “Don’t we need a--”

“I promise all is fine in that regard,” Ienzo said shortly. He pressed his mouth against Demyx’s shoulder. “Nothing to worry about.” 

Demyx had to guide it, with his hand. Just feeling the tip of it against Ienzo made him  _ shudder _ . Ienzo eased down onto it. The tightness, the heat, the friction all so needed-- “Oh,” Ienzo said, and Demyx didn’t know what to read into that expression.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. No, you--” It seemed difficult to speak. He kissed him. “You feel--” He thrusted against him once, gasping a little. “It’s good.” He started moving a bit harder, his small noises almost better than feeling him around his dick. He held fast to Demyx’s shoulders. “Just… lean back. Lean back a bit.” 

A bit awkward to do so the way they were joined, but Demyx did, kind of sitting up along the headboard. It was easier to hold him like this, so Demyx pulled Ienzo closer. They were moving together now, gently. He tried to listen to Ienzo’s reactions, creeping one hand between their tangled bodies to find his clit.

“I don’t… I don’t need it,” Ienzo said, his head lolling a little. “Please just…”

Demyx pushed up against him harder. There was a small, tight pit in his stomach, getting more insistent all the while, and he felt dizzy. A moan left him. “You feel so--” He choked on a gasp; Ienzo sank down on him hard. “That. Please.” It took a few tries to do it with him properly, but once Demyx figured it out Ienzo was making these soft beautiful noises.

Ienzo opened his eyes. There it was again, that flicker of the person below all this. “It’s making sense,” he said.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

Demyx did so, wrapping his arms around him more tightly. They were both moving faster, more urgently, and like before Demyx felt a sort of spasm roll through him, only now he could feel it clench so  _ beautifully _ around his cock. He found he was having to fight to hold back now, but Ienzo just felt so  _ good _ and it felt like there was nothing between them, no judgement or bad memories or accidental hurt.

Demyx felt him clench again. He was able to thrust against Ienzo once more before it happened.

He’d already felt Ienzo come against his mouth and hand. But to feel it  _ against his cock _ was completely different, and he moaned against his shoulder, unable to fight anymore. It felt like unravelling, and hearing Ienzo’s gasps pushed him farther. They were clutching each other tightly. A thick, heavy sort of relief broke over him, leaving him feeling raw.

So hesitantly, Ienzo looked him in the eye, so much more present. He kissed him once, gently this time. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He was still a bit breathless. “You… were…”

“So were you. Do you think you could--”

“Oh… right.” Demyx eased his softening cock out of him and lay back down more fully against the pillows. Ienzo rested his head against his chest.

“Sometimes I’m afraid,” Ienzo admitted.

“Of what?”

“How vulnerable you make me feel.”

“Are you afraid now?”

He looked up. “No,” he said. “This is the safest I’ve felt in months.”

“Can we stay here for a while?”

“I should like that very much.”

Demyx didn't fall asleep immediately; neither did Ienzo. They just held each other in this lovely silence, and Demyx though about how much music there could be in silence. Eventually, though, he did doze, and woke in the early dawn. His back was hurting again, but he attributed it to the odd angle he'd been in when they made love.

"Good morning," Ienzo said, his voice husky.

"Good morning." He kissed him once.

"Would you like to go get breakfast with me?" Ienzo asked. "There are some good specials in town."

"Sounds good. I'm starved." He put on his glasses.

Ienzo sat up. He took a deep breath. "Oh to make the workday pass quickly."

"Even being annoying?"

"Always, Demyx, always. And I dread telling Riku how little progress we've made. Funny, they always leave that bit to me." Ienzo scowled.

Demyx patted his back. "Breakfast first. And if you're tense later, well. I can help with that."

Ienzo kissed him. It grew deeper, hotter, his tongue flicking against Demyx's. "I wish I could now."

"I know." He tucked a lock of Ienzo's hair behind his ear.

He got up and started getting dressed. The memory of the night before made Demyx… nervous. "I'm sorry, I have to ask. Yesterday, when you said we didn't need… protection, is that--"

He buttoned his shirt. "...Oh. Right. Demyx, I  _ promise _ no accidents will happen."

"So do you take something, or is there a spell, or--"

"I can't have kids." He said this very matter-of-factly.

"I know, which is why--"

"I mean I  _ can't. _ " He offered a small smile. 

"...Oh." 

"My abnormal puberty… rather wrought havoc on my hormones. A Nobody's body is influenced by the will. I wanted to look and be more masculine. Ergo, I was. That, and darkness and nothing tend to… sterilize. Much like radiation. I do not ovulate. I do not bleed regularly. Nothing will happen." His tone was a little too casual.

"...Oh. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Ienzo kissed his forehead. "We have an intimate relationship. Of course you want to know if that can… have unintentional results. It's only responsible."

He cleared his throat. "Does that mean… I am too? Sterile?"

Ienzo frowned. "You were mostly grown when you came to the Organization, but you were also twice a Nobody. Sadly, it is possible."

"...Oh." It made him feel uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure why. He decided not to think about it for now. He started getting dressed as well. "What do you feel like eating?"

"Anything as long as there's coffee."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a strange sickness, Demyx remembers something critical.

So strange, for Ienzo to be his boyfriend.

He was softening, but sometimes it still felt like there was a brick wall between Demyx and Ienzo. Usually if he wanted true honesty Demyx had to either catch him after he had a nightmare (because Ienzo did have them too, he discovered one night, feeling him thrash against him and hearing him scream and cry), or after they had sex. Seeing as the latter was more pleasant, he sought it more.

"So, query," Ienzo began.

"What do you want?" He asked in a low voice.

"Would you be willing to try something?"

"...That depends."

Ienzo was blushing. "It's less out of the ordinary than you'd think," he said quickly. "I just… I had a little free time, and I… made something."

Demyx's face heated. "Made-- _ what?" _

Ienzo reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. Unceremoniously, he handed it to Demyx.

"I  _ knew _ you were into bondage--"

A scowl. "It's not that.  _ Goodness." _ He unwrapped the fabric revealing an ordinary, run-of-the-mill dildo.

"Oh," he said, trying to hide his disappointment.

"It's more than it looks," he said. "I had… something similar in the Organization days, and I… rather missed it." A wistful sigh. "My magic is weaker now, so it took some time to find that spell."

"What does it do?"

"When it's touched… I can feel it like it's part of me."

"Oh." Then, getting it, feeling a flush of  _ want _ , " _ oh." _

"I'm sure it doesn't feel… the same as it would naturally, but…"

"...You could top me with this."

"...Among other things." He cleared his throat a little. “Would you want to try this with me?”

Demyx knew it was a sign of trust. “Um,  _ yeah. _ ” And wondered if it were worth pushing. He leaned forward and kissed him, found him immediately responsive. He slid his hand down to Ienzo’s throat, untying the ascot of his uniform, sliding off the sweatervest and unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you always have to wear this?”

“It helps me stay in that mindset.”

“Goody-goody researcher?”

He flushed. “Quite.” He tugged off Demyx’s shirt too. They kept undressing for a long moment. 

Demyx kissed him along his collarbone, feeling him shudder. “What if I were to… suck you off?”

Ienzo just nodded like this was perfectly amenable, though Demyx saw his color darken, heard his breathing hitch. He reached for the bundle of fabric and Demyx realized it was a pair of underwear, the front pocket modified for the dildo to fit through and rest against him. He slipped it on.

“You really thought this through,” he said.

Ienzo snorted. “Demyx, your vanilla colors are showing. You’ve never seen a harness? This one is rather makeshift.”

He blushed.

Ienzo touched his cheek. “I think it’s adorable,” he said. “...And means I can corrupt you all the more.” A purr crept into his tone, making him rock hard almost instantly. He leaned back against the pile of pillows. There was a raw confidence in his eyes, more than when he was just naked, Demyx realized. He felt more comfortable like this. Demyx lay down between his spread thighs. His heart was beating so hard. He’d fantasized about doing this to him, but he hadn’t thought that, given the resources, it would be possible. (Idly, he wondered  _ where _ a sex shop was in Radiant Garden.) 

So tentatively, he reached forward to touch it. The silicone was velvety against his fingers, but a little dry. Ienzo gasped. “Can you feel it?”

He nodded. “It is the  _ strangest _ sensation--I don’t know how to describe it--”

“Try,” he suggested, stroking it like he would touch himself, concentrating on the tip and underside.

“Well, um,” he took a shaky breath. “I can… definitely feel it in the clit, but at the same time, like it’s… an extension of it? Like…” A gasp. “I suppose… phantom limb would describe it well?”

“But does it feel good?”

“More intense than I remember,” he admitted. 

“Is there lube? Just a tiny bit?”

Ienzo fumbled in the same drawer. Demyx didn’t stop what he was doing, observing him closely. He handed Demyx an anonymous bottle, and he took a few drops of it onto his fingertips. It let him stroke it more fluidly, with less friction. Ienzo’s head rolled back.

“Tell me what feels good for you,” Demyx said. He kissed the insides of his thighs before easing his mouth over it. There was the flavorless taste of the lube, the stiffness of the silicone. Ienzo moaned a little. He started working it over, fucking the base and running his tongue along the tip. He looked up and saw that Ienzo was leaning back, his eyes closed, his hips jutting just slightly. 

Demyx chanced taking it a little deeper, letting it slide in and out of his mouth. The reaction was immediate.

“Fuck,” Ienzo spat. 

He pulled away. “Like this?”

He moaned. “Just like that.”

Demyx moved a little harder against him and felt Ienzo’s hands tangle in his hair. His dick, against the sheets, throbbed. He took his other hand and, gently, ran his fingers against his pussy, trying to simulate what it might feel like to have his sack touched. He could feel its wetness through the fabric. He took it as deeply as he could without gagging, and Ienzo nearly  _ thrashed. _ Demyx didn’t think he’d ever seen him so wrecked, and he had to fight not to touch himself. 

“I’m… I…” He was struggling for words. Demyx swallowed around it. “ _ God. _ ” A hoarse gasp. “I…”

_ Let go, _ Demyx willed him, mouth too full to actually speak. He took it most of the way out of his mouth, then back again.

Ienzo clapped a hand over his own mouth, muffling what would have been a very loud moan. 

So slowly, Demyx sat up, wiping the remnants of lube from his mouth. Ienzo met his eyes hazily. “Is that what it feels like?” he asked, gasping for breath.

“Um, kind of?” He laughed a little. “I can’t exactly do it to myself.”

He lay back a moment, and his eyes flashed a little. “Let me take you.”

“Now?” His cock practically  _ ached _ at the thought.

“The only good thing about this body,” he murmured, “is that I do not  _ have _ the recharge time you do.”

“And I’m in love with that idea, I haven’t… I’m just not… uh, clean, you know?” He laughed awkwardly. 

“Well, would you like to get that way?” In that low, sexy voice Demyx couldn’t resist. He kissed him once. “I can help you.”

“How?”

Ienzo pulled him into a hug and whispered something into his ear, a word Demyx didn’t recognize, a spell. “That should make it significantly easier.”

In the bathroom, he realized Ienzo was  _ right _ , and he could return much more quickly than it would’ve ordinarily taken. Ienzo was lying on his side, and seeing that cock laying out  _ waiting _ for him only made Demyx shudder. 

“Come here,” he said. “Get comfortable.” He kissed him long and hard for a moment, taking his dick into his hand. He eased Demyx onto the mattress, facedown. He pressed small kisses down his spine, caressing his ass gently. Demyx heard him set down the bottle onto the dresser, and felt his fingertips ease into him. He moaned against the pillow. “So soon,” Ienzo purred. “I’m barely touching you.”

“Watching you…” He swallowed, feeling Ienzo explore deeper, so  _ close _ to that spot-- “Ah! Watching you was… really hot.”

“Yes, you treated me very well.” Another finger slipped in to join the first, pulling in and out so  _ slowly _ . “Are you ready for me to take you?”

“Please.”

“...I love it when you beg.” Demyx felt the lubed tip against it.

“I know,” he stuttered. 

Ienzo slid into him. It wasn’t  _ all _ pleasure--it had been a long time and one full recompletion since the last time he’d been taken, so he wasn’t necessarily as…  _ pliable _ as he used to be. The cock wasn’t even that large, but he winced. Ienzo shushed him. “Do you need more lube?”

“No, just let me--”

“Right.” He felt Ienzo’s chest pressed against his back. After a moment, the aching sensation faded. “You feel so good,” Ienzo murmured. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay?”

He nodded. He felt him shift and thrust once, gently, and they both gasped almost at the same time. Demyx grasped at his hand and held it tightly. Ienzo started moving a little more, a bit more deeply, moreso teasing him than getting the spot. “It’s, um… you can kind of like…”

The pressure of Ienzo’s chest disappeared, and he bore down a little harder. 

Demyx squeaked despite himself. “That’s it.”

Ienzo laughed at him. It took a few tries before he could consistently get to it, but once he did Demyx found  _ himself _ the wrecked one, able to do little more than moan against the pillow. Ienzo strung him along, letting him get  _ close _ but never all the way there, pleasure making everything tingling and indistinct at the edges. Because of this, Demyx only hazily realized that Ienzo was again making these beautiful noises, groaning a little as he fucked him, moving harder, his thrusts more punishing against the g-spot.

“Oh, you’ll let me now?” he asked breathlessly.

“Shut up,” Ienzo said, and his tone just made Demyx’s cock throb. “Just… shut…” He made this noise Demyx had never heard before, almost a sort of cry, and it pushed Demyx over the edge.

Everything went gray for a moment, the orgasm breaking over him in little waves, and he felt for a moment just so terribly and beautifully helpless, only able to feel the pleasure Ienzo had given him. As he so slowly came back to reality, he realized the cock was still inside of him. “Hey,” he gasped, “you okay?”

Ienzo hummed. Demyx felt… something vaguely wet and sticky back there. “I may have, um, cum on you.” A slight laugh. The dildo slid out of him. Demyx turned and saw that, indeed, the pale blue harness was wet. “That has not happened in a long while. I don’t usually, ah, let myself go for a second. But  _ feeling _ you--”

“I’m really glad you did. Fuck. I feel  _ weak. _ ” He flopped onto his back. 

“As do I.” The dildo stuck straight up, unaffected by all their fucking. “So did you like feeling my cock?”

He laughed again, still trying to catch his breath. “Good luck getting me to do anything else now.”

Ienzo kissed him. He eased off the harness, wincing as he pulled the dildo out of the hole.

“Sensitive?”

“Very.” He set it aside and lay back down with him. Demyx reached over and touched his face. His face was slack, open, and it was  _ staying _ that way for once.

_ Am I going to have to fuck your brains out for eternity? _ He thought. But he supposed there were worse fates.

Another thought tossed from that one-- _ I love you. _ Demyx felt it with a deep certainty. He loved the way Ienzo felt in his arms and he loved their banter and he even loved when Ienzo got snippy.  _ I love you. _ Like a dam breaking, he thought those words over and over, a sort of refrain, a coda. He almost said it. 

“What?” Ienzo asked softly.

“I’m just happy,” he said. “That’s all.”

They fell asleep together. When he woke, his back was hurting again.

Ienzo said something first. “Are you alright?”

It wasn’t just his back. He felt  _ shitty _ . Tired, and  _ hot _ , and nauseous. “I, um.” He tried to sit up, the nausea worsening. “Just feel a little sick. Sorry in advance, you’re probably gonna catch it.”

Ienzo frowned. He pressed a hand to Demyx’s forehead. “I did feel warm cuddling you in the night,” he said. “I’d have to check, but I believe you have a fever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He smiled, but there was a worry line in his forehead. “Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll take you back to your room, and make you some tea and soup.”

Demyx nodded. When he tried to stand, the ache made him gasp out loud. 

“Do you think I need to get Even?” Ienzo asked.

“No,” he said. “No, I think… the weird position just… pulled something?” 

“It’s possible,” Ienzo said. “Occupational hazard.”

He returned to his bedroom. Once he had a shower, and the tea and soup Ienzo forced on him, he felt a lot better, though the pain remained. “I’m fine,” he said. “I think it was just a quick thing.”

“Maybe, but…” Ienzo frowned. “I’d feel better if he looked at you. With your prior health scares--”

“What are you, worried about little old me?”

He laid his hand back on Demyx’s forehead. “You’re still quite hot.”

“Thanks, I’ll be here all week.”

“You know what I mean.”

Demyx squeezed his hand. “Go to work,” he said. “I’ll chill, and rest, and heat up the rest of the soup if I’m hungry. If I still feel like shit--which I won’t--Even can poke and prod me as much as he likes.”

Ienzo bit his lip. “You’ve been taking your medicine?”

“Religiously.”

Ienzo kissed him on the forehead. “Alright,” he said. “Try to get some sleep. I’m a text away, Demyx. I mean it.”

“I know.”  _ I love you. _ He watched Ienzo walk away, trying to keep a smile on his face. Once Demyx was sure he was gone, he went into his bathroom and sat next to the toilet for a while, sure he was going to be sick, but he wasn’t. This tired him out so much that he went back to bed and fell asleep.

He didn’t dream. When he woke he was covered in sweat, but he didn’t feel so feverish anymore, and breathed a small sigh of relief. Even the pain in his back felt like mere muscle pain. Ienzo confirmed his fever broke when he checked on him again. “...The strangest thing,” he murmured, setting aside the thermometer. He insisted on staying the night with him just in case things went to shit.

Demyx dreamt. 

“You were the last person she spoke to,” Lauriam hissed in his ear. “Where did she go?”

“I have no idea,” he asserted. “Listen, she just--she just said she was going to meet a friend of hers, and she had to do something with the Dandelions. That’s all I know.”

“I don’t know why you think he knows anything,” Elrena said, with a sniff. “Even mom said he probably won’t make much of himself.”

Despite his harsh tone, Lauriam frowned. “Please tell me you’re teasing.”

She shrugged. “He was dumb enough to pass up the chance to join me.”

“I didn’t pass it up,” he mumbled. “I just didn’t want to be in  _ your _ union.”

She puffed out her chest. “Why not? Couldn’t stand the idea of being bossed around by me?”

“Well no.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What  _ other _ friends do you have, Edym?”

A sensation like cold, like shattering, hearing that word, that name--the memory cracked--

“I have friends!” he asserted. “Strelly is one of them.”

Lauriam put a hand on his face. 

“I dunno… don’t you think this end of the world stuff is creepy?” he asked. “Do you really think it’s true?”

Lauriam sighed. “Yes. We do.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of memories, Ienzo has a breakdown. The time in the desert catches up to Demyx.

Demyx woke with a gasp. He was soaked in sweat, and he looked at his hands.  _ My name _ , he thought dazedly.  _ That’s my name! _ He turned to Ienzo, ready to wake him up and tell him everything.

Except Ienzo was already awake. He was on his side, curled tightly, and he was crying. 

“Hey,” Demyx said softly. “Bad dream?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re not fine, if you’re crying.”

“It’s an involuntary reaction.”

“What happened?”

“One in a hundred basement dreams,” he said. “Just… all these moments I could’ve stopped--feeling my… heart get ripped out of my chest…” He shuddered. “This pain is just what I deserve. Karma.”

“You don’t deserve that.”

“After all I’ve done?” Ienzo asked in a high voice. “This is the least of what I deserve.”

“No. No, Zo. That’s just not true.”

“Why not.”

“You couldn’t help being lead onto that path--”

“What about after?” his tone was shrill. “When I  _ was _ old enough, when I  _ should’ve  _ known right from wrong?”

Demyx didn’t know what to say. 

“We killed people, Demyx.” He got up and started rather violently getting dressed. “Come on. You need to see something, if you want to be with me.”

Demyx could only follow. He was feeling hot and dizzy again. Ienzo led him down to the computer lab, to a door at the far side. He punched in numbers, breathing heavily. “We don’t have to--”

“ _ Yes we do. _ ” The syllables rang loudly in the metal space.

Demyx reached forward to touch his shoulders, fighting his own nausea. “No. We don’t.”

Ienzo slapped his hands away, grabbed one, and brought him downstairs into the basement.

The basement… was just a basement.

Demyx  _ felt _ that bad things had happened here. The energy was just too charged. Ienzo stood, staring, dazed, at the cells, all of the doors closed and quiet. It was strangely clean. Empty. 

“I killed people,” Ienzo said, in a much lower voice. “I wanted to do experiments and when I asked they said okay. I manipulated people. Pushed them to their breaking points, psychologically. When they were broken Xehanort plucked out their hearts, and I didn’t feel the least bit sorry. I thought we were making discoveries which would change the world.”

Demyx swallowed. He thought of a childlike Ienzo standing over a body fading to darkness.

“I killed people,” he repeated. “And afterwards when I could not  _ feel _ I killed even more, let whole  _ worlds _ fall because of our plans. Why am I--why am I still here?” 

“You’ve been given a second chance,” Demyx said. “You were a… you were a kid, Zo.” He chanced touching his shoulder. “You were manipulated onto this path. You said it yourself--Xehanort gaslit you into thinking this lab was your idea. You were too young. Too smart.”

“Too smart,” he echoed.

“And you chose good now, right? You chose to help the world? That means a lot. That means so much.” His vision was swarming. He cupped Ienzo’s face. 

“Seeing this--how could you still--”

“I love you.”

If anything, this was the wrong thing to say. “Why?” It was nearly a bleat. “Why?  _ Why _ ?”

“I do, Ienzo. I do. We talked about this. What were you supposed to do? These people were your parents, and they asked you for something, and you were good at it. They took your dad away. You had nothing left. What were you supposed to do? Run away, at eight, ten, twelve years old? Give up everything? How were you supposed to know what was going to happen?”

The wildness in his eye was fading. 

“And you’re doing everything in your power to put it right, right? To fix it? To help people? And you are. You work so hard every day. You’re using that research to help people. It’s going to change the world.” He felt like he was talking out of his ass. “Look, it so sucks that you had to go through this. But I’m too selfish to let you keep hating and blaming yourself when this is  _ not your fault _ .” His voice echoed loudly. “Not when I can see the real you. And he is so  _ kind _ and patient and smart and funny. You… you deserve to be here. You deserved to be loved. I mean it.” He was sweating all over, and the pain in his back had returned, thumping in time with his racing heart. “I mean it.”

Ienzo sank to his knees. Demyx knelt with him and pulled him close. He was crying again, but it seemed like the kind of crying that had to happen, so Demyx just shushed and rocked him. After what felt like hours, hours where Demyx struggled not to vomit, struggled to stay completely conscious, he calmed. “Oh Demyx,” he said. “Oh.”

“I know. It’s okay. We can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I don’t want to.” He stood and offered him his hands. “I love you too. I don’t… I don’t deserve you.”

“More like I don’t deserve you.” He smiled, weakly. He was feeling weird now, and wanted to go back to bed. “Let’s go home, okay?”

The long, long walk back upstairs seemed to take an eternity. “Your hand is really warm,” Ienzo said. 

“The stress made me hot.” Why was he lying? He needed help.

“I insist you see Even first thing in the morning.”

“...I will.” He was feeling even stranger now, hazy, weird. Upstairs was in sight now. Maybe he could sit for a few minutes when they got there…

They passed the threshold. Something unraveled in him, went sharp, went weird, went sideways--

* * *

The next thing Demyx was aware of, he was on the cold hard metal floor, on his side, and his head was in Ienzo’s lap. There was the smell of vomit, a slickness of sweat, and there was an awkward wetness between his legs. “...What…” He mumbled. His head was pounding, and the pain in his back had reached a fever pitch.

“Don’t move. Try to relax.”

“What happened?”

“You had a seizure.”

“I don’t… remember…”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Where are my glasses?”

“I took them off for safekeeping. Even and Dilan are coming. Just try to stay still until then.”

He looked down as much as he was able. A spare lab coat had been spread over his lap. He realized what the wetness was; he’d pissed himself. A humiliated flush heated his face. “I’m sorry I peed,” he mumbled. “And threw up.”

“It was completely involuntary, Demyx, it’s okay. Most people do when they seize.” His voice was soothing, but he detected an undertone of stress. Ienzo stroked his sweaty hair. 

Footsteps. “What are you two doing down here?” Even snapped. “How long did he seize for?”

“I’m not sure exactly--I was trying to keep him from aspirating the vomit.”

“Boy, minutes count. Guess.”

“Five minutes or so?”

Even swore. He knelt down by Demyx. “Hello there,” he said. 

“I’m sorry.” His eyes watered.

“It’s alright, child.”

_ Child? _ That’s how Demyx knew he was in deep shit. He felt Even’s cold hands taking his pulse, his temperature. 

“Febrile,” he muttered. “What else do you feel?”

“Sick,” he said. “Just really… sick. And…” He swallowed. “My back really hurts? Like a lot?”

Even probed him gently. “Here? Right here?”

He hissed. “Right there.”

“Ah,” Even said. Demyx couldn’t see his expression clearly. 

“Even, what is--” Ienzo began. Then, “oh.”

“Quite,” Even said. “Oh, Dilan, there you are. Thanks for taking your _ sweet  _ time.”

“I’m tired,” Demyx murmured. 

“Close your eyes and rest,” Ienzo said. “It’s okay.”

* * *

He didn’t get all the way asleep, but awareness slid in and out. He was vaguely aware of Ienzo changing him into a robe, of Even taking blood samples. The pain was still awful and nausea brought him around. “Oh,” he said.

Ienzo’s head snapped up. He was sitting next to the bed in the infirmary. “What do you need?”

“I’m gonna be sick.” 

He held a bin in front of him. Demyx heaved, but nothing other than water really came up. “I’ll have Even give you an antiemetic.” He handed him a cup of water to rinse out his mouth. 

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked wearily. He had a suspicion but he needed it in words.

“We’re trying to figure out for sure. You need to relax. It’s going to be okay.”

He tried to lay back. For a while he just felt weak and hazy and sweaty until he looked up and saw Even. The man rubbed a prep pad over his bicep, and Demyx felt a pick of a needle, then a numbness in his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said. Demyx didn’t recall sleeping. “I’m putting a port line in. You remember from before, yes? This is just something to make that process more comfortable.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You need the fluids,” Even said. Despite the numbing, when he put the line in Demyx felt every little pinch and prick. “Okay. Okay. Steady. Good boy. I’m done.”

Thin, strange-tasting tears ran down his face. He felt something stinging injected into the line--an antiemetic like Ienzo said? A painkiller? Just saline?--but whatever it was made him so exhausted he dozed.

In this haze Demyx heard voices.

“...You’re sure?” 

“I showed you the numbers, Ienzo. The fever, the vomiting, the seizing especially. I wish he were lucid enough so I could ask how long the symptoms have existed…”

“At least since yesterday.”

“...It’s advanced enough that I’m sure it’s been longer. I… had suspected he might not bounce back so quickly. But he’s young, and fit more or less, so I didn’t see a reason to scare him unnecessarily. Which begs the question  _ why _ you two were alone for so long yesterday, but there are more immediate problems.”

“So what do we do?”

“The dialysis will buy some time and make him feel better. But it’s not a good long term solution--not to mention it will greatly decrease his quality of life.”

“So there’s truly no way they will bounce back?”

“The loss of function was complete, Ienzo, complete. If the medications he’s been taking haven’t been helping, nothing will.” A long pause. “I may have a solution, but it will take a little  _ time. _ ”

“I think I catch your drift.”

Demyx slept. When he woke he felt considerably less shitty, but with this clarity came a bunch of truths he wasn’t ready to face.

He’d remembered his name and a little bit more of his past.

He’d seen Ienzo in a godawful amount of pain.

There was something seriously medically wrong with him.

The line in his arm pinched. He sat up a little. He could see blood creeping down one line and back in another, with plain fluid in a third. The blood was connected to a small machine, which was ticking along quietly. His glasses had been set on a bedside table. Demyx knew without looking he was back in the infirmary. 

Ienzo was dozing in the chair next to the bed, a scratchy-looking blanket tucked around his shoulders. 

Demyx felt mostly… numb.

Ienzo jolted awake with a start. “Demyx.”

“Hey.”

“How do you feel?”

“Lots better. Tired, though.” His muscles were sore, he realized; not the terrible awful ache he’d been living with (which had quieted, it seemed, for the time being). “I’m in pretty deep shit, aren’t it?”

Ienzo sighed heavily. He sat up. “Yes,” he said tiredly.

“My kidneys are fucked, aren’t they?”

“The technical diagnosis is “renal failure” but, yes.” He reached over to touch Demyx’s face. “Even thinks he has a solution. You just have to hold on long enough for him to implement it.”

He sighed. In his mind’s eye he saw the desert. “Man, people might as well be made of paper,” he said. “Little dehydration and it all falls apart.”

Ienzo’s smile was cramped and sad. 

He swallowed. “Before… everything got super dramatic,” he said, “I remembered something.”

“You did?”

“I… I really think I did.” He told him about the dream/memory. “She’s my sister, Ienzo.” His eyes watered. “Elrena is my sister. All of that… that insulting. It’s just a mutated form of sibling rivalry.” 

“How do you feel about that?”

“Confused,” Demyx admitted. “The spot she has in my heart is just… weird.”

“Of course it is.”

“Where is she? Is she home? Do we have parents? More siblings? Is she okay?”

“She likely recompleted. I’m sure she’s physically fine.” 

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“You don’t have to,” Ienzo said. He touched one of the tubes. “Right now, you  _ can’t _ .” 

"And there's my name." He took a deep breath. “Edym.”

A long, long pause. Ienzo smiled. “Do you want me to call you that?”

“I’m… I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe you could try to, and I can see how I feel?”

“Of course.” He leaned over and kissed him once. “It’s nice to meet you, Edym.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even comes up with a solution to Edym's problems.

His days took on a peculiar rhythm. He had to do the dialysis for four hours every two days, just to not die. Even though he no longer felt like throwing up all the time, he was still exhausted. Even said he could do it overnight if he wished, so he wasn’t  _ chained _ to the machine, but it wasn’t like he felt strong enough to work.

Scrooge was understanding. “Take as much time as you need, laddie,” he said. “As I said, you can’t make me money if you’re not well.”

So Demyx-- _ Edym, _ he reminded himself--rested. And rested. He didn’t sleep as deeply as he used to when he worked full time, dropping in and out every few hours. He missed gardening. Missed working. Missed fresh air. He tried to work on music, but his sitar felt too heavy to comfortably manipulate. 

So he asked Ienzo to bring him some books. He read fantasy, mystery, horror. When Ienzo visited--as he did each day after he worked, and Edym insisted he work--they talked about it. He brought Demyx-- _ Edym _ \--books about music history. But Edym felt burnt out.

“I’m worried about him,” he heard Ienzo admit to Even one night, while he was pretending to sleep. “He doesn’t care about music. I asked him why he hasn’t been playing sitar and he said it’s too heavy. He’s too weak. I think he’s depressed, especially after the whole Elrena revelation.”

“It’s possible,” Even said. “He’s been vaulting from one traumatic experience to the next. Chronic illness is very hard on one’s mind. It won’t be much longer, Ienzo. I want to make sure it’s watertight.”

“...Thank you.”

“Why did you have to choose  _ that _ boy, of all people?”

Edym thought about Elrena. He hadn’t had any other memories emerge since then. He thought about Larxene, how much they’d hated each other.  _ Sister _ , he thought.  _ Sister. _ Sometimes he looked at his face for a long time in the mirror, trying to gauge if they had similar features. The coloring was uncanny, he had to admit. He wasn’t sure if he missed her. All he knew was that he ached.

“I’ve brought something for you,” Ienzo said. He had a small cloth bag. “I know your sitar has been a little hard to manage lately. I wonder if this might help.” He handed it to Edym with an expectant smile, a smile that said,  _ please work. _

He unwrapped the object delicately. He knew what it was straightaway, from his time in the Pride Lands; a kalimba, its small metal keys over a gourd of polished wood. It was the perfect size for Edym’s hands.

He brought his thumb gently onto the A key, and heard it prick into silence. Ienzo watched him intently.  _ He did this. He brought this for me. _ He struggled through a transposition of one of his compositions, the notes pouring from him almost desperately, like they’d been struggling to get out for so long, and he slogged through the next, until it all came a little bit easier, a heavy, achy relief.

The next thing he knew, Ienzo was gently prising the kalimba from his hands and drawing him into his arms. “Why--?” Edym began to ask, but then hearing his own voice, realized he’d been sobbing. 

Ienzo shushed him gently. “Let it out,” he said. “Just let go.”

“Ienzo,” he sobbed.

“I know. I know, love. I know.”

* * *

“Are you mad at me?” Edym asked Even.

Even pulled the catheters from his port line. “Why would I be?”

“About me and Ienzo.”

“Ienzo can make his own choices,” the man said. “If he is able to find some happiness with you, however brief, I think that is earned. From what I gather you treat him well.”

“...But nobody’s good enough for him.”

A small smile. “He’s my son. I can’t help but think that.” 

“...How did the basement happen?”

His expression slackened.

“He took me there before I seized and he was freaking out.”

Even sighed and sat down. “It’s a sordid story.”

“I want to know.”

He took a moment to gather himself. He cleared his throat. “We all wanted to study hearts,” Even began. “The memories, what makes them tick, what differentiates them from, say, the neuronal emotional responses in our minds, and the beating of our physical hearts. Without getting into the technical, we studied hearts and bodies for years--the genesis of my replica program was born here. 

“Young Xehanort arrived after a particularly awful storm. Master Ansem took him in, fascinated by his lack of memory. We suspected darkness brought this young man here. And once darkness entered our lives…” A sigh. “It spiraled out of control very quickly. Enabling us, making us see what we ordinarily knew to be evil as… necessary, or worth what we would learn.

“See, Ienzo came to us as an orphan. His biological parents were dear friends of Master Ansem, so it was natural for the boy to come live with us. And he was just so brilliant. His mind, though childlike, could see solutions that would take us months ordinarily. At first, he was not involved, only an observer, one to work on calculations for us. But with Xehanort… well. Quickly that creature discovered that if he was close to Ienzo, he could get what he wanted from Ansem.

“There was a desire to extend the labs anyway, especially to conduct this heart research. It wasn’t all darkness and grim decay yet. It was approved, in fact, by a board of ethics. But once there were actual people involved… and darkness… it was only a matter of time before our hubris made it all so violent. See, Xehanort wanted to get rid of Ansem because of his moratorium on the experiments. And I feared that, if we did not comply, something terrible would happen to Ienzo--as by then, Xehanort had moved to experimenting on children. So I let it happen. It is, to this day, one of my greatest regrets.

“A great many people became Heartless. So many that the townsfolk started to be able to hear their torment from the outside. And then… we were convinced to let go of our hearts, to protect our bodies, and keep working. Keep experimenting. I had hoped that Xehanort would allow Ienzo to grow normally, but that was not the case. He cut the boy down in front of me.” Even’s eyes had become distant. “And once we were Nobodies… our bonds were mostly severed.”

Edym shuddered. “Yikes.”

“We devote ourselves to atonement to make up for what we’ve done. To use that knowledge to mend, and rebuild. If the universe desired us gone… well, it had its chances, didn’t it?” A dark smile. “I feel my guilt is earned. Needed to help me grow.”

“I think I understand now,” Edym said. 

Even patted his shoulder. “Hopefully that research will save your life. And if that means I have to be annoyed by you for a great many years… well. Anything to make it up to Ienzo.”

* * *

It became clear the only way to fix him involved surgery. “Unless you’d rather be tethered to that machine every few days for the rest of your life, anyway,” Even explained. There was something like an excited glint in his eye. “Using a combination of the replica technology and your own genetic code, I created an artificial organ. We simply--”

“Chop out one of the bum ones and slap on the new one?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Effectively, yes.”

“Great,” he said dryly. “Sign me up.”

Even rolls his eyes. “You haven’t got many options.”

“No, I’m so doing it,” he said. “Just, uh, I’ve never exactly had anyone cut me open?”

“You’ll be under general anesthesia, so you won’t feel a thing,” Even said. “Maybe some soreness afterwards. But I’m confident you’ll feel much better almost immediately.”

Almost anything was better, Edym thought. 

“I have a medical degree. I know what I’m doing,” Even added. 

“I know you do,” he said. “I’m… I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“A little.”

A sigh. “It’s only natural.”

* * *

“I’ll be by your side the whole time,” Ienzo said to him. “Quite literally. Even needs extra hands and I’m the only one with any significant medical knowledge.”

“Ew, you’ll see my guts,” Edym said. 

Ienzo rolled his eyes. “Human anatomy does not disgust me.”

“I guess I’m glad it’s you.”

He sighed. “Am I  _ sure _ I want you around, is the question.”

“Har har.”

“What happens to us next?” Ienzo asked.

“We live,” Edym said.

“I’d love to travel,” he said, with a sigh. 

“Maybe we can look for my sister.”

A small smile. “Maybe we can, Edym.”

* * *

A few days later, Edym found himself on the cold table in Even’s lab, which was separate from the computer lab, and in general much more organized. The room, too, was freezing, and both Even and Ienzo were in green scrubs, their hair tied up and out of the way, masks covering most of their faces.

“Before you conk me out, can I see it?” Edym asked. He’d been nervous the night before, but now was weirdly cheerful--or maybe it was the anti-anxiety drug he’d been given. (Even hadn’t said anything, but Demyx had seen the bottle.) 

With a sort of restrained pride, Even showed it to him in its sterile container.

“Why is it gray?” he asked. 

“Much like replicas are featureless until they gain a heart, this will remain colorless until it starts leaching off your blood supply.”

“Whoa,” Edym said, feeling woozy. (Definitely drugged, he decided.) 

“And the good thing about using your genetic code is that the chance of rejection is slim to none. None of the annoying drugs required. Everything ready, Ienzo?”

“Quite.”

“Alright. When I place the mask onto your face, Demyx, ah, Edym, nice deep breaths. Count back from a hundred.” The plastic, when it touched his skin, was cold.

“See you on the other side,” he replied woozily. 

The next thing he was aware of, things had begun to wash back in. “Everything went smoothly,” Even was telling him in a calm, soothing voice. (He had to be high, if Even could sound that nice.) 

“I’m sleepy.”

“Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

* * *

“...What do you think will happen to us?”

Elrena stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms behind her. They were on the roof and the sun was setting. “I try not to think about it too much,” she said. “Anyway, trying to think about it at all won’t help, dummy.”

“...I know,” Edym said.

“I really wish you’d have joined my union.”

“I know,” he said. “But you don’t want a coward like me.”

“Yeah, I bet whenever there’s a nasty Heartless you’d run and hide.”

He grinned. “Yup.”

“We can collect so much more lux if I don’t have to keep an eye on you.” She thumped his shoulder. “But you know whatever happens…”

“What?”

“We’ll find each other. Strelitzia always said that crap.”

“Do you believe it?”

She sighed. “Maybe the stupid is catching, but I do.”

* * *

Edym woke slowly. The air smelled fresh and clean. 

“Morning,” he heard Ienzo say.

“Morning.” He furrowed his brows. He felt weird, and then realized he felt weird because he  _ didn’t _ feel like shit despite just having surgery. “How are my guts?”

“Took to you better than Even thought. Your labs are looking good--and it's only been a few hours.”

He tried to sit up. There was an ache of stitches, but no substantial pain. “Huh,” he said.

“What?”

“I just… I dunno. I guess I expected it not to go well.”

Ienzo kissed his forehead. “All you have to do now is recover.”

“And finally leave this fucking room.”

“Quite.”

* * *

Edym continued to recover quickly. He was shocked at how much  _ better _ he felt. Gone was the exhaustion, the ever-present nausea. If he kept doing well over the next few months, Even would replace the other kidney.

“Thank you,” Edym said after one of the myriad check-ins. “Really. You saved my bacon.”

“I should be thanking  _ you _ ,” Even said. “You were something of a guinea pig.”

“ _ What. _ ”

Even rolled his eyes. “I knew in theory that the replica technology could have medical applications--it’s mostly why that project began. But creating  _ one _ specific organ for  _ one _ specific person, without requiring a donor, was something of an experiment. Now I know this can help others. The proof is in the pudding--so to speak.”

“Yeah, in my guts.” He sighed. “At least this is something I’ve done with my life.”

Even chuckled a little. “Well, because of it you  _ have _ a life.” His expression grew serious, but did not lose its warmth, which Edym found to be an  _ incredibly _ strange experience. “Don’t squander it.”

“Dude, are you like, my friend now?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be jumping to conclusions.”

Edym knew better. “Can I… hug you?”

“ _ Must _ you?”

“Please?”

A sigh. “Be quick about it.” 

Edym squeezed him once around the waist; Even awkwardly patted his head. “So, in the beginning,” he began. “When I first hugged you, it seemed to really upset you. Why is that?”

He sighed. “We all have our wounds from the old days,” he said. “And that is as far as I’ll go with that.”

Edym would take the victory. “Fair enough.”

* * *

His recovery meant the return of energy, the return to work. Edym couldn’t do a lot of the strenuous planting anymore just yet, but he could water the plants, clip browning leaves. He was feeling stronger day by day, better. 

Other things returned too.

When he’d been sick, he hadn’t exactly felt up to trying to have sex, and Ienzo hadn’t pushed it. About a month after the surgery, though, they decided to try.

“We have to be gentle. Careful,” Ienzo said. “It’s probably better if you let me do all the work.”

“Aw, I’m sure that’s just killing you,” Edym said. 

He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t feel any pain? Even a little?”

“I haven’t in like three weeks.”

He nodded. Ienzo had tried for something like romance, leaving a lit candle on the dresser. He kissed him, letting his forehead rest against Edym’s for a moment. “I’ve missed doing this with you.”

“Me too.” 

Ienzo kissed him again, harder this time, easing him back gently. The color was high in his cheeks, and he was a bit breathless as he worked at Edym’s clothing. “I mean it. You better relax.”

“If I die fucking you, it’s a life well spent, I think.  _ Hey. _ ” Ienzo had bitten his throat. 

“You behave badly, you get punished,” Ienzo said in a low voice.

“I  _ knew _ it! I  _ knew _ you were into that shit--” The next bite was much gentler, and made him go from mildly turned on to hard in an instant. “Maybe I am too.”

Ienzo laughed a little. “I don’t think we should do anything of  _ that _ ilk today.” He lessened the bites to kisses, which still made Edym squirm. He slid off his own shirt, and Edym helped him out of his pants and underwear. “I want you inside me,” he said softly.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, I… I’m into that.” He traced his hand along Ienzo’s chest, across his belly, down between his legs, feeling the start of wetness. His clit was hard, so he rolled it between his fingers. 

Ienzo kept kissing at his throat, his chest. His breath hitched a little as Edym touched him. “I thought I was supposed to do all the work.”

“I can’t let you have  _ all _ the fun.”

He tried not to laugh; Edym saw it. “Alright.” He was grinding  _ just slightly _ against his cock, the tease unbearable after so much waiting. He pressed one of his fingers up into Ienzo, even that much pressure so tempting. “I got too used to you,” Ienzo said, with difficulty. 

“What? Getting you off regularly?”

“Quite--” A small moan left him; Edym put another finger inside of him. “It’s not nearly so much fun on my own.”

“Have you ever tried the strap?”

“In a moment of extreme weakness.”

“What was  _ that _ like?”

“ _ Bizarre, _ ” he admitted, jutting against Edym’s hand. “Perhaps if you  _ behave _ I’ll make you one of your own.”

He swallowed the noise he wanted to make. “And if I don’t?”

“...Then maybe I’ll use it to make life a little bit unbearable.” Ienzo grasped Edym’s cock and stroked it. 

“Just--gentler, gentler,” he moaned. “Do you want me to come  _ now _ ?”

A smirk. “It  _ has _ been a long time.” 

“Yes. That is a threat.”

Ienzo kissed him. He guided Edym’s cock up against his opening, teasing the tip of it.

“ _ Ienzo. _ ”

“ _ Fine _ ,” he conceded, finally pressing down against it. “Though I do love seeing you helpless.”

“I’ll show you helpless,” he muttered, but he couldn’t help but buck up into him. The friction was  _ so _ needed, a beautiful pressure, and already he felt a tightness in the pit of his stomach. “God.” He’d been too afraid to even really try jerking off, managing it only once about a week ago in the shower. It had taken thirty whole seconds. 

It seemed like Ienzo was pretty pent up too. His eyes were shut, and he bucked down hard against Edym, taking him deep. Edym felt the little tremor, the spasm, and to make himself feel less pathetic he reached up to stroke at Ienzo’s clit. He moaned a little. “Fuck,” he said. 

“I know.”

Ienzo thrusted against him faster, his head bowed down now, holding onto Edym’s shoulders for dear life. Edym was struggling to hold on, but Ienzo felt so fucking good against him, especially the little twitches as he grew closer. Edym grasped his hips. “I won’t… I won’t blame you if you finish first,” Ienzo said breathlessly. “It’s been a long time for you, I’m sure.”

“Ha. You  _ wish. _ ” Ienzo tightened around him deliberately, making him cry out. 

He smirked, but his expression shifted almost immediately. He kept riding him, the rhythm erratic at best, and Edym knew it wasn’t long for either of them. “Here. Pull it--” He propped up his hips a little, a better angle. Ienzo moaned.

“No,” he said.

“Not good?”

“Not  _ fair _ ,” he said breathily, and he folded.

He thought he was used to the intensity of Ienzo’s orgasms, but this one rocked through him differently, sweet and hot, making him tingle all over. He let go almost violently, a heady, thick relief only adding to his pleasure, Ienzo thrusting against him weakly once or twice more before they finally just came together.

It seemed to last a long time, trembling little waves. Ienzo was shaking, struggling to hold himself up, his thighs tensing against Edym’s. 

They were still breathlessly pressed together. “Alright?” Ienzo asked. 

“God, I’m…” He nodded. “So fucking good.”

“Yes, quite…” He eased off of him and sagged against Edym’s stomach. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“You missed my cock more than me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Edym kissed him. “Yeah. I do.”

“But, you know, in fifteen minutes or so we are absolutely doing that again. I want to savor you.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edym and Ienzo keep growing.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

The more time passed, the more trickling memories came back. The picture Edym got was never  _ clear _ , exactly. More like brief flashes of insight. Fighting Heartless with his sister. Getting his ass kicked  _ again _ and  _ again. _

Learning music.

It was their mother that taught him, that suggested  _ maybe _ he shouldn’t follow in Elrena’s footsteps. Edym had always heard music in things, found himself gravitating towards it. Once it was well and truly in his life, it was like a hole had been filled. 

But the more insight Edym had into Elrena, the angrier and more hurt he felt about how Larxene had treated Demyx. They’d both been amnesiac, but how or why had that relationship mutated to  _ hatred? _ Had something else happened? Did she just feel  _ that _ betrayed by him not joining her? 

Would he ever know?

For a long while his life fell into a steady--mostly pleasant--rhythm. Work, gardening, time with Ienzo. It was all so painfully ordinary. Not that Edym minded that, at all. Waking up next to him was worth all the pain he’d gone through.

The others gradually got used to his presence, their relationship. The more Edym thought about it, the less he really wanted to find the place that was once home--especially if it meant leaving Ienzo. Maybe someday they would live in their own little house, with a cat or a dog. With or near friends. But for now… what they had was fine as it is. There was no need to rush into anything serious. 

Edym and Ienzo… began to grow.

It was hard to leave behind that time in the Organization, especially because so much of Edym’s sense of self came from Demyx. And Ienzo had spent the majority of his childhood as a Nobody. Figuring out who they were and what humanity all  _ meant _ was dazzling and confusing. The more his flickers of memories came back, the stranger Edym felt. He’d been soft, but he’d also been so  _ young _ . He knew something awful had happened to their home, and, more likely, it had all happened a lot  _ longer _ ago than anyone thought. But how, or why, Xemnas had found them was anyone’s guess.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do to help,” Even told him. “Aside from patiently waiting for those memories to come back… we can’t look into what happened to your world without knowing what it’s called.”

Edym knew this was true. It still put a sour seed in his chest. He thought of his sister, of Larxene. Harder still to grieve someone who was likely alive. But where was she? How would she feel seeing him again? Did she even care?

“I know it’s easier said than done,” Ienzo said softly, one night after they made love. “But you have to stop torturing yourself.”

“I know. I’m trying. I just…”

“Want closure.”

“Well. Yeah.”  _ Don’t you _ ? He almost asked. 

“I know. I wish I could… take that pain from you.”

“I just have this feeling that she’s alive, and I-- even if we just… hash things out, I don’t know.”

“I can’t say I relate totally,” Ienzo said. “But I know how it is to… lose people to the unknown.”

“Your parents?”

He nodded. “I scarcely have any memory of them anymore. My memories used to be so--achingly sharp.” He touched his brow. “Now, not so much. To take a page from Ansem’s book… if you’re meant to find each other again, you will. You have to trust in that.”

“You really believe that?”

He sighed, and smiled. “Call me crazy, but I do.” Ienzo kissed him. “Want some tea?”

* * *

Time passed. Edym kept waiting for the other shoe to drop--for things to get complicated and messy again. But they didn’t. Even eventually replaced the other kidney. He grew closer to the members of the restoration committee, became friends with them. When Scrooge offered him the opportunity to manage the post office instead of just work it, he took it. It felt nice to do something that had a positive impact, for once.

He was sweeping up one day after close when he heard the doorbell. They’d recently moved shop away from the strange little bazaar into their own building. “Sorry, we’re closed. Drop your mail in the box outside. I’ll handle it first thing.”

“Look at you, a cog in the machine.”

Edym froze. Very slowly, he turned.

“...Don’t look at me like that. Whose idea were the glasses? Almost makes you look not stupid.”

He made a strange noise. “How did you--when--I--”

Elrena looked tired, her skin sallow. “It’s a long and ultimately very boring story,” she said. She picked up a book of stamps, looked at it with something like distaste, and set it down. She was still wearing the black coat, he noticed. “Xigbar didn’t bite it, you know.”

He gripped at his elbow. “Yeah. I know. He almost killed me.”

“Really? I thought there was a--I don’t know. Rapport, or something, between you two. He  _ was _ one of the only ones who could stand you.”

Edym blinked. Seeing her, he felt something a whole lot more complicated than he thought. Not relief. Not happiness. “So he found you and brought you here?”

“...Something like that. He said this was where you ended up.”

Edym shook his head slowly. “You  _ wanted _ to see me?”

She smirked. “Call me sentimental, but yeah, I did. Was  _ wicked _ weird when I found out. Lauriam just thought it was hilarious. Marluxia,” she clarified.

“So he’s around too.” Edym set the broom aside. “Well. Good for him, I guess.”

There was a pause. Elrena cleared her throat. “You’re going to snitch about Xigbar, aren’t you?”

“Probably. Yeah.”

“...Is it bad I kind of want you to?”

“More pot stirring?”

“More pot stirring.” She grinned. “It’s what I do best.”

“So what are you two doing with him, anyway?”

“Honestly? I’m not completely sure. But I’m helping Lauriam look for someone, and then after that… well. The World is our oyster.”

Without ceremony, Edym said, “Stelitzia.”

“Oh, you remembered that much?”

Woodenly, he nodded. 

“Lauriam thought he remembered someone getting her killed. But considering that nobody in this fucking world seems to  _ stay _ dead… well.” She shrugged.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

She dropped her eyes. “Like I said. All this talk of his sister… had me feeling sentimental. And that’s so not cool. I thought if I saw you it’d stop.”

“Did it?”

“Don’t know.”

Edym let out a slow breath. “How long are you in town?”

“Not long.” She took another few steps towards him. “If you want, you can come with us.”

He laughed. “No. No way in hell. Sorry.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Why would you want  _ me _ anyway?”

“You could see her again.”

Edym put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to leave what I have here. I… I’m happy, you know? I feel like I’m… starting to finally do more good things than bad. My life is here. Whatever we had before, as kids. I don’t think it was a life.”

Her eyes darkened. “No,” she said in a low voice. “It wasn’t.”

“You could have a life here too,” he said. “Or… not here, anywhere you want. You don’t  _ have _ to go along with Lauriam and Xigbar. You could choose.” He offered his hand, and for a breath thought she might take it. 

Elrena smirked. Shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “I’ve got things to do. People to see.”

“And undermine?”

“With any luck.”

Edym nodded. His heart settled in his chest. “Just don’t get yourself killed again,” he said. “And slug Xigbar good for me, okay?”

“Maybe. He  _ does _ always seem to be asking for it.”

There was a pause, longer than the last. “You’ll be okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. I really will.”

“Well, okay. Then I’ll stop worrying.”

“You were  _ worrying _ ?”

“Come on, Edym. We all know you’re not great at planning for the long term.”

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I should go. My ride’s waiting.” She headed towards the door.

“Wait--Elrena--”

She turned, her lips pursed.

“Why did our Nobodies hate each other so much? Cause I don’t think I hate you now.”

She thought about it for a moment, her teal eyes flashing. “The last time we saw each other, we fought,” she said. “Can’t tell you for my life about what.”

“About the cult,” he said, with clarity.

“The Dandelions,” she corrected.

“I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“And I didn’t want to have to baby my brother.” She shook her head. “Well. Turns out that never happened. You were stuck with me. Maybe I resented that.”

Edym nodded. 

“And being a Nobody makes you angry for no reason  _ anyway _ ,” she said, more lightly. “Does that answer your question?”

“I think so.”

“Then I should go.” For a second, it seemed like she might touch him.

“You have a phone?” he asked.

“What, one of those dumb things? What kinda budget do you think we’re working with?” A grin.

“...Right. Well.” He took a deep breath. “I guess… if I see you, I see you. And if I don’t…”

“Yep.” She put her hand on her hip. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, either.”

“And hey. If I really need something, I’ll just write.” She winked. “Bye, Edym.”

“Bye, Elrena.”

When she left, she didn’t look back.

* * *

Edym sat heavily on the blanket. His joints hurt from a long day of work. It was his turn to bring the picnic, but instead of cooking, he’d been too tired, so he’d just gotten takeout from Ienzo’s favorite place. He hoped that would suffice.

“I know I’m late,” Ienzo called. “Even was being very--” He cut himself off, his eyes wide. He looked around the courtyard slowly. “When did you have the time--”

“I’ve been here almost all day.” His face flushed.

Ienzo walked around slowly, touching the new plants in their pots. The orchids. The lanterns Edym had hung around the peripherals of the property. He’d tried to repair some of the stonework in the floor, too, but accepted that he was a terrible mason. Ienzo turned to look at him. “Why did you--”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time here. I wanted to… make it nice.” He stood, wincing at the ache in his hips. “Aeleus helped me with this.” He reached over behind the old fountain to turn on the pump. 

“This must’ve taken hours--days,” he said. He shook his head. “Edym, I--” He touched one of the orchids. “You even remembered these.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you. It  _ is _ your birthday,” he pointed out.

Ienzo jerked.

“Did you forget?”

“I did entirely,” he admitted. “Time doesn’t pass in that cursed lab.” He wrinkled his nose. “Thank you.” He leaned in to kiss him. “Really. Thank you.”

He shrugged, the blush in his face getting hotter. “I… liked doing it. Let’s eat, okay?”

They did. 

“...You know, you don’t  _ have _ to work in that lab,” Edym said. 

“It has been wearing on me lately,” Ienzo admitted. “But I have to be able to… do good work. Good things. It’s the only way I can sleep at night.”

Edym squeezed his hand. “No need for you to suffer doing something you hate.”

Ienzo shook his head. “I don’t  _ hate _ it,” he said. “Knowing that I’m doing something worthwhile  _ does _ feel good.”

“But it’s the coworkers that suck?”

Ienzo grimaced. “Quite. At least Even is at least  _ partially _ distracted by the research work you’ve given him. He’s been criticizing my coding like  _ his _ doesn’t look two or three languages behind.” 

Edym chuckled. 

Ienzo set down his bowl. “You know…” he began. “This life is no longer feeling quite so strange.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“I  _ think _ so.” He put a hand to his chest. “I was worried that humanity would never feel quite right. Everything still overwhelms me. But… at least that sensation isn’t always negative anymore.”

Edym kissed him. They rested there together for a while longer. 

“I mean, this whole mess only began because of my poor self-control,” Ienzo continued. 

“ _ Hey. _ I don’t think we’re  _ messy _ .”

“We’re a little messy,” Ienzo said. 

“Well. I’m  _ glad _ that it all happened. I feel like you’ve… helped me.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he said. He sighed. “Hopefully our next mistakes are equally fruitful.”

“Har har.”

Ienzo leaned back against him. For a while, neither of them said anything; they didn’t have to. “Shall we head back?” Ienzo asked. “I could use some--ah--stress relief.”

Edym smirked. “You got it.” He kissed him, longer this time. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
